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NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED 
By  D.H.Strother. 


Harper's 
March- Aug. 18 57. 


Library  of 
The  University  of  North  Carolina 


COLLECTION  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINIANA 


ENDOWED  BY 

JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 

of  the  Class  of  1889 


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-p9i7.S  9Z^ 


This  book  must  not 
be  taken  from  the 
Library  building. 


Form  No.  471 


HARPEE'S 

NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


No,  LXXXII -MARCH,  1857  -Vol  XIV, 


60ENEEY   ON  THE  CHOWAH. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 

I.— THE  FISHERIES. 
Yet  more  ;  the  difference  is  as  great  between 
The  optics  seeing,  as  the  objects  seen. 
All  manners  take  a  tincture  from  our  own, 
Or  come  discolored,  through  our  passions  shown ; 
Or  Fancy's  beam  enlarges,  multiplies, 
Contracts,  inverts,  and  gives  ten  thousand  dyes. 

Pope. 

ON  a  pleasant  morning  in  the  month  of  April 
we  find  our  adventurous  traveler,  Porte 
Crayon,  standing  on  the  promenade  deck  of  the 
steamer  Stag,  which  is  just  backing  out  from 
the  Blackwater  Station,  on  the  Sea-beard  and 
Roanoke  Railroad. 

On  approaching  this  station,  about  twenty 
miles  distant  from  the  town  of  Suffolk,  one 
looks  in  vain  for  the  promised  steamboat  that  is 
to  convey  him  to  Edenton.  His  search  for  the 
navigable  river  whose  waters  are  to  float  the 
boat  is  equally  fruitless  ;  and  not  without  many 
misgivings  does  he  see  the  train  go  off,  leaving 
him  standing  agape  beside  his  baggage,  in  the 
midst  of  an  apparently  interminable  cypress 
swamp. 

Anon,  a  blowing  and  fizzing  draws  his  atten- 
tion to  the  swamp  on  the  left.  He  starts,  sup- 
posing it  to  be  the  noise  of  an  enormous  alliga- 
tor, but  is  relieved  on  perceiving  a  white  column 
of  steam  rising  from  the  midst  of  the  forest,  and 
a  black  smoke-pipe  peering  above  the  dense  un- 
dergrowth. At  the  same  moment,  a  negro  ap- 
proaches and  shoulders  his  baggage. 


' '  Gwine  aboard,  Massa  r " 

The  traveler  cheerfully  follows  him  down  a 
narrow  path,  and  presently  is  surprised  to  find 
himself  aboard  of  a  very  promising  steamboat. 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  looking  over  her  stern, 
he  sees  the  Blackwater  River,  a  narrow,  black 
ditch,  embanked  with  tangled  bushes  and  cy- 
press-knees, and  overarched  completely  with 
trees  clothed  in  vines  and  hanging  moss.  The- 
stream  being  barely  wide  enough  to  float  the 
boat,  she  is  obliged  to  crab  her  way  along  for  a 
considerable  distance,  her  alternate  sides  but- 
ting the  cypress-knees,  and  her  wheel-houses 
raked  by  the  overhanging  boughs. 

At  length  the  river  begins  to  grow  wider,  and. 
taking  advantage  of  a  sudden  bend,  the  boat 
turns  round  and  pursues  her  course  headfore- 
most. One  of  the  passengers  openly  expressed 
his  satisfaction  at  this  change,  for  he  said  it  al- 
ways made  him  sick  to  ride  backward. 

As  his  fellow-travelers  were  not  numerous, 
and  showed  no  disposition  to  be  talkative  at  this 
stage  of  the  journey,  our  hero  had  ample  oppor- 
tunity to  sit  apart  and  amuse  himself  by  indulg- 
ing in  such  fancies  as  the  scene  suggested. 

The  tortuous  stream  lay  motionless,  like  a 
dead  serpent,  under  the  dismal  shadow  of  the 
never-ending  forest.  When  the  prow  of  the  ad- 
vancing boat  disturbed  its  glassy  surface,  the 
waves  heaved  up  as  if  they  might  have  been 
uncouth,  lazy  reptiles,  hastening  to  get  out  of 
her  way,  and  flinging  themselves  over  the  skel- 


<k 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857. 
Met  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 
Vol.  XIV.— No.  82— E  e 


by  Harper  and  Brothers,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Dis» 


434 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


eton-Hke  cypress  roots,  disappeared,  tumbling 
and  wallowing  among  the  reeds.  Although  the 
genius  of  Moore  has  given  immortal  pre-emi- 
nence to  the  Great  Dismal  that  surrounds  Lake 
Drummond,  all  the  swamps  bordering  the  south- 
em  tide-water  present  the  same  characteristics, 
becoming  more  striking,  and,  if  possible,  more 
dismal,  as  the  traveler  advances  southward. 

At  the  confluence  of  the  Blackwater  and  Not- 
toway rivers  we  enter  North  Carolina.  There 
is  a  stout  rope  stretched  across  the  river  here, 
which  the  passenger  with  the  weak  stomach  took 
for  the  State  line.  On  inquiring  of  the  captain, 
however,  he  was  informed  that  it  was  a  rope  fer- 
ry, of  which  he  was  presently  satisfied  by  seeing 
a  flat-boat  pulled  across. 

William  Byrd,  of  Westover,  one  of  the  com- 
missioners who  located  this  dividing  line  in 
1 727,  says,  ' '  The  borderers  laid  it  to  heart  if 
their  land  was  taken  in  Virginia  ;  they  chose 


much  rather  to  belong  to  Carolina,  where  they 
pay  no  tribute  to  God  or  to  Ccesar." 

As  the  day  advanced  the  thoroughfare  grad- 
ually widened  into  a  broad  and  noble  river, 
the  view  became  more  extended  and  more  ani- 
mated, but  could  scarcely  be  characterized  as 
interesting.  However,  the  announcement  that, 
he  had  entered  a  new  State  aroused  Porte 
Crayon  from  his  reveries,  and  induced  him  to 
look  about  with  more  alertness.  The  bordering 
swamps  were  still  the  same,  and  there  was  no 
perceptible  change  in  land  or  water.  Buzzards 
sailed  in  lazy  majesty  athwart  the  blue  sky,  and 
mud-colored  terrapins  basked  luxuriously  upon 
convenient  drift  logs,  motionless  as  stones,  un- 
til the  waves  from  the  passing  boat  rolled  them 
over  and  unceremoniously  plumped  them  into 
the  water.  But  this  paradise  seemed  as  yet 
untenanted  by  the  human  race. 

Porte  Crayon. listlessly  whittled  his  pencil — 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


435 


WATCHING   AND   PKETING. 


ah,  there's  a  living  wight  at  last !  a  native  Caro- 
linian under  his  own  beaming  sun,  lying  in  a 
canoe  watching  his  fish-trap  after  the  Southern 
fashion,  while  the  sagacious  eagle,  with  con- 
temptuous audacity,  settles  down  and  carries  off 
the  prey. 

To  the  inquiring  mind  there  might  be  some- 
thing suggestive  in  this  picture.  "We,  however, 
prefer  to  let  eveiy  one  draw  his  own  inferences 
and  make  his  own  comments  thereon.  While 
our  stanch  little  steamer  paddles  industriously 
on  her  way,  we  may  be  permitted  to  relieve  the 
tedium  of  the  journey  by  extracting  some  inter- 
esting historical  notices  of  the  early  settlement 
of  North  Carolina. 

In  April,  1684,  Sir  "Walter  Raleigh  sent  out 
two  ships,  under  Amidas  and  Barlow,  on  a  voy- 
age of  discovery  to  the  New  "World.  In  July 
the  same  year  they  landed  on  the  coast  of  what 
is  now  North  Carolina,  thanked  God,  and  took 
possession  after  the  fashion  of  those  days.  They 
made  explorations  and  had  some  intercourse  with 
the  natives,  by  whom  they  were  received  with 
' '  Arcadian  hospitality. ' '  On  their  return  to  En- 
gland they  gave  such  glowing  accounts  of  the 
new  country  that  the  public  imagination  was 
fired,  and  a  company  of  adventurers  was  easi- 
ly formed  to  colonize  a  land  that  promised  so 
much. 

Hackluyt  says,  "  It  is  the  goodliest  soil  under 
the  cope  of  heaven,  the  most  pleasing  territory 
of  the  world.  The  continent  is  of  a  huge  and 
unknown  greatness,  and  very  well  peopled  and 
towned,  but  savagely.  If  Virginia  had  but 
horses  and  kine,  no  realm  in  Christendom  would 
be  comparable  to  it."  He  thus  characterizes  the 
natives:  "They  are  a  people  gentle,  loving, 
faithful,  void  of  guile,  cruel,  bloody,  destroying 
whole  tribes  in  their  domestic  feuds  ;  using  base 
stratagems  against  their  enemies,  whom  they  in- 
vited to  feasts  and  killed." 

Some  might  be  disposed  to  consider  this  old 
writer  a  wag,  but  his  description  was  doubtless 
a  correct  one,  as  it  seems  to  be  a  very  good  gen- 


eral description  of  human  nature  in  all  countries, 
and  in  all  ages. 

In  the  preface  of  a  book  printed  in  London, 
anno  1626,  entitled  "  Purchas  his  Pilgrimage 
or  Relations  of  the  World,"  the  author  breaks  out 
into  the  following  :  "Leaving  New  France,  let 
us  draw  neerer  the  sunne  to  New  Britaine, 
whose  virgin  soyle  not  yet  polluted  with  Span- 
iards lust,  by  our  late  Virgin  Mother  was  justly 
called  Virginia,  whether  shall  I  here  begin  with 
elogies  or  elegies  ?  whether  shall  I  warble  sweet 
carols  in  praise  of  thy  lovely  face  thou  fairest 
of  virgins  which  from  our  other  Britaine  world 
hath  won  thee  wooers  and  sntors,  not  such  as 
Leander  whose  loves  the  Poets  have  blazed  for 
swimming  over  the  straits  betwixt  Sestos  and 
Abydus  to  his  louely  Hero,  but  which  for  thy 
sake  have  forsaken  their  mother  earth,  encount- 
ered the  most  tempestuous  forces  of  the  aire  and 
so  often  ploughed  vp  Neptune's  Plaines,  furrow- 
ing the  angry  ocean,  and  that  to  make  thee  of  a 
ruder  virgin,  not  a  wanton  minion  but  an  hon- 
est and  Christian  wife." 

And  so  the  worthy  Pilgrim  continues  for  sev- 
eral pages  without  a  stop ;  but  we  would  as  lief 
drink  a  quart  of  beer  without  taking  breath  as 
undertake  to  read  it  all.  In  the  narrative  he 
goes  on  to  say,  "  In  the  river  of  Tamescot  they 
found  oysters  nine  inches  long,  and  were  told  that 
on  the  other  side  there  were  twice  as  great. 
Moreover,  the  peple  told  our  men  of  cannibals 
neere  Sagadahoc  with  teeth  three  inches  long, 
but  they  saw  them  not." 

At  this  point  the  annotator  was  interrupted  by 
a  remark  from  a  green-looking  passenger,  in  a 
blue  coat  with  brass  buttons. 

"  Stranger,"  quoth  he,  "you  appear  to  take 
great  diversion  in  that  book  you're  a-reading. " 

In  reply,  Crayon  read  the  last  quoted  para- 
graph aloud.  The  listenef  opened  his  eyes, 
puckered  his  mouth,  and  wound  up  with  a  long 
whistle. 

"Oh,  Chowan!  Three  inches  long  ?  "Well, 
that's  what  I  call  a  Gatesville  story." 


43G 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


"My  friend, "  said  Crayon,  with  severe  gravity, 
"there  is  frequently  as  much  rashness  exhibit- 
ed in  the  rejection  as  in  the  assertion  of  a  belief. 
For  example,  we  must  all  admit  that  nothing 
has  been  created  in  vain.  It  is  equally  suscep- 
tible of  demonstration  that  the  oysterwas  created 
expressly  to  be  swallowed  whole.  Now  we 
must  either  be  prepared  to  allow  that  oysters 
eighteen  inches  long  (which  we  have  seen)  exist 
contrary  to  a  fixed  law  of  nature — a  false  note 
in  the  universal  harmony — or  we  must  believe 
that  there  are  men  big  enough  to  swallow  them 
properly." 

"  Stranger,  I've  a  suspicion  that  you're  from 
the  North." 

"Why  so,  my  friend?" 

"Because  the  people  up  there  are  so  book- 
ish and  lamed  that  they'll  believe  almost  any 
thing." 

Brass  Buttons  walked  away,  and  our  travel- 
er returned  to  his  notes. 

After  several  abortive  attempts  to  establish 
a  colony  on  Boanoke  Island,  the  coast  of  Caro- 
lina was  abandoned,  and  it  was  not  until  1653, 
forty-six  years  after  the  settlement  of  James- 
town, that  a  colony  from  Virginia  settled  per- 
manently on  the  Boanoke  and  the  south  side 
of  Chowan.  Ten  years  afterward,  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Virginia  appointed  William  Drummond 
to  take  charge  of  the  young  colony,  and  the  Lake 
of  the  Dismal  Swamp  still  preserves  the  name 
of  the  first  governor  of  North  Carolina.  At  a 
later  date  one  of  the  appointees  of  the  British 
Crown  thus  characterizes  his  subjects:  "The 
people  of  North  Carolina  are  not  to  be  outwit- 
ted nor  cajoled.  Whenever  a  governor  attempts 
to  effect  any  thing  by  these  means  he  will  lose 

his  labor  and  show  his  ignorance They  are 

?iot  industrious,  but  subtle  and  craft}' — always 


behaved  insolently  to  their  governors ;  some 
they  have  imprisoned,  others  they  have  drove 
out  of  the  country,  and  at  other  times  set  up  a 
governor  of  their  own  choice,  supported  by  men 
under  arms." 

In  fact,  their  whole  colonial  history  is  a  nar- 
rative of  turbulence  and  high-handed  resistance 
to  their  British  rulers,  up  to  the  commencement 
of  the  Bevolutionary  War ;  and  in  summing  up 
her  history,  it  appears  that  upon  the  soil  of 
North  Carolina  the  first  colony  of  Englishmen 
was  planted;  the  first  child  born  of  English  pa- 
rents in  the  New  World.  She  may  also  claim, 
with  propriety,  to  have  shed  the  first  blood,  and 
to  have  spoken  the  first  word,  in  the  cause  of  our 
national  independence — at  the  Battle  of  Alle- 
mance,  fought  in  May,  1771,  and  through  the 
Mecklenburg  Declaration  of  Independence,  put 
forth  in  May,  1775.  The  fact  that  so  unruly 
and  impracticable  a  colony  should,  when  left  to 
herself,  have  become  so  exemplary  and  conserva- 
tive a  State,  is,  in  itself,  a  noble  monument  to 
the  spirit,  patriotism,  and  wisdom  of  her  people. 

The  mid-day  breeze  now  curls  the  broad  bo- 
som of  the  Chowan,  and  its  shores  are  teeming 
with  life  and  activity.  Numerous  bald-eagles 
sail  overhead,  while  the  surface  of  the  water  is 
dotted  with  boats  of  every  description,  from  the 
cypress  canoe,  paddled  by  a  lonely  sallow-faced 
angler,  to  the  ten-oared  barges  that  carry  out  the 
cumbrous  seines.  White  smoke  curls  up  from 
groups  of  cottages  on  shore,  where  busy  crowds, 
composed  of  whites,  blacks,  and  mules,  wage- 
unceasing  war  upon  the  shad  and  herring-  Cole- 
rain  is  at  length  reached  and  passed,  and  now 
the  vessel's  prow  is  turned  eastward.  Behind 
her  the  sun  sets  in  a  haze  of  golden  glory.  A 
long,  low  wooded  point  is  turned  at  last,  and  at 
the  head  of  a  handsome  bay  sits  Edenton — 


suorf:  or  aixkmaei.e  sound. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


437 


queen-like,  one  might  say,  but  in  a  small  way, 
and  the  view  is  all  the  prettier  for  not  being  in 
any  way  interrupted  by  those  forests  of  shipping 
which  usually  mar  the  appearance  of  sea-port 
towns. 

The  landing  of  this  steamer  is  the  great  event 
of  the  day  for  the  Edentonians,  and  our  hero 
had  no  difficulty  in  finding  his  way  to  the  prin- 
cipal hotel  of  the  place.  Here  he  got  a  comfort- 
able supper,  at  which  fish  of  all  kinds  figured 
largely.  Not  so  easy  was  it  to  secure  a  bed,  for 
the  County  Court  was  in  session,  and  the  house 
was  full.  Now,  in  regard  to  county  courts, 
they  are  much  the  same  all  over  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  world,  and  the  only  notable  peculiarity 
of  the  county  courts  in  this  region  is  the  un- 
heard-of number  of  buggies  and  stick-gigs  that 
are  collected  about  the  court-house  taverns  on 
the  occasion. 


The  glimpse  that  our  traveler  had  obtained 
of  the  fisheries  in  coming  down  the  Chowan  had 
so  excited  his  imagination  on  the  subject,  that 
he  deferred  his  intended  exploration  of  the 
town  of  Edenton  next  morning,  and  shoulder- 
ing his  knapsack,  started  on  foot  in  quest  of  a 
fishing-beach,  of  which  he  had  received  informa- 
tion from  his  landlord. 

Pursuing  the  beaten  road  for  some  distance, 
he  at  length  turned  into  a  by-way,  which  seemed 
to  lead  toward  the  point  which  had  been  indi- 
cated to  him.  Like  all  the  by-ways  treated  of  in 
moral  allegories,  this  soon  led  our  pilgrim  into 
serious  difficulties.  Too  perverse  to  turn  back, 
and,  in  truth,  being  rather  attracted  by  the 
gloomy  grandeur  of  the  swamp  forest,  he  pushed 
boldly  into  a  wilderness  of  reeds,  tangled  green 
briar,  and  cypress-knees.  After  half  an  hour  of 
plunging  and  tearing,  he  was  at  length  brought 


438 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


up  on  the  shore  of  the  Albemarle  Sound.  The 
scene  which  here  presented  itself  was  unique 
and  beautiful,  one  peculiarly  Southern  in  its 
features,  and  more  easily  pictured  than  de- 
scribed. In  fact,  Porte  Crayon  was  decidedly 
blown,  and  here  was  an  opportunity  of  resting 
for  half  an  hour,  without  acknowledging  his 
condition  even  to  himself.  When  he  had  com- 
pleted the  sketch  to  his  satisfaction,  he  re-com- 
menced his  walk,  skirting  the  Sound  for  the  dis- 
tance of  a  mile  or  more,  and,  issuing  from  the 
swamp,  at  length  gladly  found  himself  on  terra 
firma,  in  full  view  of  the  Belvidere  Fishery. 

Eatigue,  hunger,  and  mud  were  all  forgotten 
in  the  animated  scene  which  here  met  his  eye. 
In  the  foreground  was  the  landward  boat  moored 


to  the  beach,  while  her  swarthy  crew  were  act- 
ively engaged  in  piling  up  the  seine  as  it  was 
drawn  in  by  the  exertions  of  four  lively  mules 
at  the  windlass  hard  by.  In  the  centre,  upon  a 
bank  a  little  elevated  above  the  water,  rose  a 
group  of  sheds  and  buildings,  alive  with  active 
preparation.  Beyond  these  the  seaward  boat 
appeared,  while  upon  the  surface  of  the  water, 
inclosing  the  whole  beach  in  a  grand  semicircle, 
swept  the  dotted  cork  line  of  the  seine.  To 
complete  this  scene  of  bustle  and  animation  on 
land  and  water,  the  air  furnished  its  legions  of 
fierce  and  eager  participants.  Numerous  white 
gulls,  fish-hawks,  and  eagles  hovered  or  sailed 
in  rapid  circles  over  the  narrowing  cordon  of  the 
seine,  at  times  uttering  screams  of  hungry  im- 


W    ,-•/' 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


439 


A   NIGHT   HAUL. 


patience,  then  darting  like  lightning  to  the  wa- 
ter and  bearing  away  a  struggling  prize  in  beak 
or  talons. 

It  was  wonderful  to  observe  the  brigand-like 
audacity  with  which  these  birds  followed  up  the 
nets  and  snatched  their  share  of  the  prey,  some- 
times almost  within  arm's-length  of  their  human 
fellow-fishermen  and  fellow-robbers. 

Our  hero  hastily  unslung  his  knapsack,  whipped 
out  his  pencil,  and,  seating  himself  upon  the 
outer  windlass,  made  a  note  of  this  busy  and 
picturesque  scene ;  and  having  thereby  partially 
gratified  his  artistic  yearnings,  he  lost  no  time  in 
introducing  himself  at  head-quarters.  Here  he 
was  received  with  that  frank  hospitality  which 
characterizes  the  region,  and  ere  long  was  seated 
at  the  dinner-table,  where  boiled  rock,  stewed 
cat-fish,  white  perch,  and  broiled  shad  disputed 
the  claim  on  his  taste  and  attention.  Unable 
to  decide  by  the  eye,  he  tried  them  all  twice 
round,  swearing  with  devout  sincerity  at  each 
dish  that  it  was  the  most  delicious  morsel  he 
had  ever  tasted.  About  the  close  of  the  meal 
a  grizzled  woolly  head  appeared  at  the  door,  and 
its  owner,  flopping  his  greasy  wide-awake  upon 
the  sill,  humbly  craved  audience  with  the  man- 
ager. 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Uncle?" 

"A  little  somethin',  master,  if  you  please." 

A  bottle  of  very  superior  whisky,  which  had 
been  set  out  in  compliment  to  the  stranger,  was 
at  hand,  and  the  manager,  pouring  out  half  a 
tumblerful,  gave  it  to  the  petitioner. 

"  Sarvant,  master — sarvant,  gent'men,"  and 
as  the  precious  liquor,  in  obedience  to  the  laws 
of  gravity,  went  down,  Uncle  Sam  rolled  up  his 
eyes  with  an  expression  of  devout  thankfulness 
that  would  have  become  a  duck  at  a  puddle. 


"There  now,  you  old  reprobate,  don't  you  call 
that  good  whisky  ?" 

"Please  God,  masters,"  replied  Uncle,  with 
a  low  bow  and  a  bland  smile,  "I  often  hear  you 
gent'men  talk  about  good  whisky  and  bad  whisky, 
but  I  never  seed  any  dat  wasn't  good,  'specially 
ef  ole  nigger  was  dry.  Ke  !  he !  he !  sarvant, 
gent'men." 

But  we  must  not  tarry  too  long  at  table.  The 
approaching  cries  of  the  mule-drivers  at  the 
windlasses  warn  us  that  the  seine  is  gathering 
in,  and  on  sallying  forth  we  perceive  that  the 
dotted  semicircle  of  cork  line  is  narrowed  to  the 
diameter  of  fifty  paces.  Both  boats  are  at  hand, 
their  platforms  piled  high  with  the  enormous 
masses  of  netting,  like  great  stacks  of  clover 
hay.  The  windlasses  have  done  their  part,  and 
the  mules  discharged  from  their  labors,  as  they 
are  led  away  by  their  conductors,  celebrate  the 
event  with  cheerful  brayings.  All  hands  now 
leave  the  boats,  and,  at  a  signal  from  the  chief, 
dash  into  the  water  waist  deep  to  man  the 
rope.  A  train  of  women,  armed  with  knives 
and  bearing  large  tubs,  is  seen  hastening  down 
the  bank.  Within  the  circuit  of  the  net  one 
may  already  see  a  thousand  back  fins  skimming 
rapidly  over  the  surface  of  the  water.  Every 
eye  is  lighted  with  excitement.  "  Hard  cork !" 
shouts  the  captain.  "Mind  your  leads  thar  !" 
yells  the  lieutenant.  "Hard  cork !  mind  lead  ! 
ay,  ay,  Sir !"  roar  the  fifty  black,  dripping  tritons 
as  they  heave  the  heavy  net  upon  the  beach. 
Behind  the  cork  line  where  the  seine  bags  the 
water  now  is  churned  to  foam  by  the  struggling 
prey,  and  the  silvery  sides  of  the  fish  may  be 
seen  flashing  through  the  strong  meshes.  The 
eager  gulls  shriek  at  the  sight,  and  sweep  un- 
heeded over  the  busy  fishermen.     One  more 


440 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


hurrah,  and  the  haul  is  landed,  a  line  of  wide 
planks  is  staked  up  behind,  the  net  withdrawn, 
and  the  wriggling  mass  is  rolled  upon  the  beach — 
ten  or  fifteen  thousand  voiceless  wretches,  whose 
fluttering  sounds  like  a  strong  rushing  wind 
among  the  leaves. 

"To  the  boats!  to  the  boats!"  and  away  go 
the  men  ;  now  the  boys  and  women  rush  knee- 
deep  into  the  gasping  heap.  The  shad  are 
picked  out,  counted,  and  carried  away  to  the 
packing-house.  The  rock  are  also  sorted,  and 
then  the  half-savage  viragoes  seat  themselves  in 
line,  and  begin  their  bloody  work  upon  the  her- 
ring. With  such  unmerciful  celerity  they  work, 
that  the  unhappy  fish  has  scarcely  time  to  ap- 
preciate the  new  element  into  which  he  has 
been  introduced  ere  he  is  beheaded,  cleaned, 
and  salted  away. 

If  you  now  raise  your  eyes  to  look  for  the 
boats,  you  will  see  them  already  far  on  their 
way  out  in  the  Sound,  the  voice  of  their  captain 
mingling  with  the  cries  of  the  disappointed  gulls. 
In  the  operations  of  the  fisheries  there  are  no 
delays.  Success  is  in  proportion  to  the  prompti- 
tude and  energy  displayed  in  every  department, 
and  from  the  beginning  of  the  season  to  the  end 
they  are  driving  day  and  night  without  inter- 
mission. The  powers  of  endurance  are  as  heav- 
ily taxed  as  in  the  life  of  a  soldier  campaigning 
in  an  enemy's  country. 

After  a  delicious  supper  on  various  dishes  of 
fish,  washed  down  with  yeopon  tea,  our  travel- 
er retired  to  bed,  blessing  the  man  that  invent- 
ed sleep. 

About  midnight  he  was  aroused  by  the  hand 
of  the  manager  on  his  shoulder :  "If  you  wish 
to  see  a  night  haul,  now  is  your  time,  Sir ;  we 
will  land  the  seine  in  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes." 


Mr.  Crayon  sprung  to  his  feet,  and  hastily  don- 
ning his  vestments,  repaired  to  the  beach.  Here 
was  a  scene  similar  to  that  which  he  had  wit- 
nessed during  the  day,  except  that  the  pictur- 
esque effect  was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  glare 
of  the  fires  that  illuminated  the  landing.  The 
wild  swart  figures  that  hurried  to  and  fro.  carry- 
ing pine  torches,  the  red  light  flashing  over  the 
troubled  waters,  the  yelling  and  hallooing  sug- 
gested the  idea  that  these  might  be  Pluto's  fish- 
ermen dragging  nets  from  the  Styx,  or  maybe 
a  dance  of  demons  and  warlocks  on  a  Walpurgis 
Night. 

But  such  half-drowsy  fancies  were  contra- 
dicted by  the  dark  quiet  background,  where  one 
could  see  faint  twinkling  lights  marking  the  spot 
where  some  vessel  rode  at  anchor,  and  the  dim 
unbroken  line  of  the  horizon,  from  whence 
sprung,  high  over  all,  the  vaulted  arch  of  heav- 
en studded  with  stars.  How  calmly  and  sol- 
emnly they  looked  down  upon  this  scene  of 
midnight  turmoil ! 

Oh,  beautiful  and  benignant  guardians  of  the 
night,  should  not  men  sleep  when  you  are  watch- 
ing !  Oh,  radiant,  dewy  eyes  of  heaven,  what 
earth-born  loveliness  can  vie  with  yours !  And 
yet  I  do  bethink  me  now  of  one  whose  eyes, 
mayhap  less  bright,  beam  with  a  gentler  light, 
warmer  and  nearer.  Oh,  high  and  mighty 
princes  of  the  air,  when  the  soul  plumes  her 
flight  toward  your  mystic  and  illimitable  realms, 
how  groveling  appear  all  human  pursuits  and 
aspirations !  How  the  vaulting  spirit  sinks,  reeli- 
ing  back — ■ 

"Take  care,  master;  you  well-nigh  fell  into 
the  shad  bar'l." 

"Whew!"  ejaculated  Crayon,  "I  believe  I 
was  asleep.     Thank  yon,  Uncle,  for  the  timely 


GOING  OUT. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


441 


warning;"  and  so  he  staggered  back  to  bed,  and 
tumbling  down  in  his  clothes,  slept  oblivious  of 
heaven  and  earth  until  he  was  called  to  break- 
fast. 

The  product  of  these  fisheries  constitutes  a 
most  important  item  in  the  wealth  of  this  re- 
gion, and  during  the  fishing  season  (which  be- 
gins about  the  middle  of  March,  and  lasts  until 
the  middle  of  May)  their  success  is  a  subject  of 
as  general  conversation  and  all-absorbing  inter- 
est to  the  inhabitants  as  is  the  yearly  overflow 
of  the  Nile  to  the  Egyptians. 

There  is  scarcely  an  estate  bordering  on  the 
Sound  furnishing  a  practicable  beach  where 
there  is  not  a  fishery  established.  The  num- 
ber is  limited,  however,  by  the  fact  that  these 
natural  advantages  are  less  frequently  afforded 
than  one  might  suppose.  The  water  is  often  too 
shallow,  bordered  by  extensive  tracts  of  swamp, 
or  filled  with  obstacles  which  prevent  the  proper 
dragging  of  the  nets. 

To  establish  a  first-class  fishery  requires  from 
five  to  ten  thousand  dollars  of  outlay,  and  al- 
though enormous  profits  are  sometimes  realized, 
the  great  and  certain  expense  of  carrying  on  the 
business,  and  the  uncertainty  of  its  results,  bring 
it  to  a  level  with  the  ordinary  industrial  pursuits 
of  the  country.  As  adventurous  and  uncertain 
means  of  obtaining  wealth  are  invariably  more 
seductive  than  those  of  a  character  more  ordi- 
nary and  more  certain,  it  has  been  supposed 
that  the  fisheries  have  exercised  an  unfavorable 
influence  upon  all  other  branches  of  industry  in 
their  neighborhood ;  but  the  numerous,  extens- 
ive, thoroughly  cultivated,  and  elegantly  im- 
proved estates  in  the  vicinity  of  Edenton  would 
not  seem  to  justify  this  idea. 

Now  for  a  more  practical  account  of  the  fisher- 
ies. At  the  Belvidere,  the  seine  used  was  twen- 
ty-seven hundred  yards  in  length,  and  twenty- 
four  feet  in  depth.  This  enormous  length  of 
netting  is  packed  upon  platforms  laid  on  the 
sterns  of  two  heavy  ten-oared  boats,  which  are 
rowed  out  together  to  a  point  opposite  the  land- 


ing beach,  about  a  mile  distant.  Here  the  boats 
separate,  moving  in  opposite  directions,  and  the 
seine  is  payed  out  from  the  platforms  as  they  row 
slowly  toward  their  destined  points — the  seaward 
boat  following  a  course  down  the  stream  and 
parallel  to  the  beach,  the  landward  boat  curv- 
ing inward  toward  the  shore  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  fishery  ;  thus  heading  the  shoals  of  fish  as 
they  journey  upward  to  their  spawning  grounds. 
The  top  line  of  the  seine  is  buoyed  with  numer- 
ous corks,  while  the  bottom,  which  is  attached 
to  the  lead  line,  sinks  with  its  weight.  When 
the  seine  is  all  payed  out,  heavy  ropes,  made  fast 
to  the  staves  at  its  ends,  are  carried  in  to  the 
great  windlasses  at  either  end  of  the  fishing- 
ground,  at  this  place  about  eight  hundred  yards 
apart.  The  aggregate  length  of  the  seine  with 
these  ropes  is  not  less  than  two  miles  and  a  half. 
During  the  time  they  are  winding  in  the  rope 
the  oarsmen  have  a  respite  from  their  labors, 
and  are  seen  enjoying  it,  lying  in  groups  on  the 
sand,  and  generally  in  the  sun,  like  terrapins. 
Here  they  may  snore  until  the  staff  appears, 
when  they  are 'called  to  their  posts  to  take  up 
and  pile  the  netting  as  it  is  drawn  in.  The 
process  of  winding  being  now  continued  by  lines 
tied  to  the  lead  line  of  the  seine,  which,  as  they 
successively  appear,  are  attached  to  consecutive 
windlasses  nearing  the  centre.  The  boats  fol- 
low to  receive  the  net  until  they  arrive  at  the 
innermost  windlasses  of  one-mule  power,  which 
are  not  more  than  sixty  or  eighty  yards  apart. 
Here,  as  before  described,  the  men  handle  the 
rope  themselves,  land  the  haul,  take  up  the  in- 
tervening net,  and  put  out  immediately  to  do  it 
all  over  again.  The  whole  process  takes  from 
five  to  seven  hours,  averaging  four  hauls  per  day 
of  twenty-four  hours. 

The  shad  and  herring  are  the  great  staples 
for  packing.  The  miscellaneous  fish  are  sold 
on  the  beach,  eaten  by  the  fishermen  and  plant- 
ation negroes,  or  are  carted  with  the  offal  to 
manure  the  adjoining  lands. 

The  refuse  fish  commonly  taken  are  sturgeon, 


442 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


rock-cats,  trout,  perch,  mullet,  gar,  gizzard-shad 
or  ale-wife,  hog-choke  or  flounder,  lampreys,  and 
common  eels.  Other  varieties  are  sometimes 
taken,  and  among  them  the  bug-fish,  which,  from 
its  singularity,  merits  a  particular  description. 
In  size  and  general  appearance  this  fish  resembles 
the  herring,  although  there  are  external  marks 
by  which  the  practiced  eye  may  easily  distin- 
guish them.  The  head  of  the  bug-fish  is  more 
rounded  than  that  of  the  herring,  and  its  back 
and  sides  marked  with  irregular  bars  of  a  dark 
lead  color,  but  its  characteristic  peculiarity  is 
only  discovered  on  opening  the  mouth,  in  which 
it  carries  a  sort  of  parasitical  bug.  This  singu- 
lar animal  belongs  to  the  aquatic  crustacea,  bear- 
ing some  resemblance  to  the  shrimp  or  common 
crayfish,  but  not  enough  to  be  confounded  with 
either,  even  by  a  casual  observer.  It  is  nearly 
colorless,  and  semi-transparent,  like  the  fish 
found  in  subterranean  waters  which  have  never 
been  exposed  to  light.  This  bug,  however,  has 
eyes  which  are  black  and  prominent,  and  six 
legs  on  a  side,  each  terminating  in  a  single  sharp 
hook,  by  which  it  retains  its  place  in  the  fish's 
mouth.  When  drawn  from  its  native  element 
the  bug-fish  dies  very  soon,  and  is  usually  found 
with  its  mouth  closed  so  tight  that  it  requires  a 
knife  to  force  it  open.  The  size  of  the  occupant 
is  proportioned  to  its  domicil,  and  this  fact  alone 
proves  conclusively  that  it  is  not  an  accidental 
or  temporary  tenant,  but  a  permanent  dweller 
in  the  fish's  mouth.  It  is  often  found  alive 
some  time  after  the  death  of  its  carrier,  and 
shows  signs  of  life  twenty-four  hours  after  its 
removal  from  the  fish.  It  makes  no  attempt  at 
progressive  motion  either  in  the  water  or  on 
land,  but  simply  moves  its  legs  and  tail  as  if  it 
had  never  been  accustomed  to  a  separate  exist- 
ence.   The  fishermen  relate  a  number  of  curious 


stories  about  the  bug-fish  and  its  parasite,  but 
as  no  opportunity  offered  to  substantiate  them 
by  actual  experiment,  the  author  forbears  to  re- 
peat them. 

Mr.  Crayon  has  taken  the  pains  thus  particu- 
larly to  describe  to  us  this  queer  fish,  in  the  be- 
lief that  naturalists  have  heretofore  overlooked 
it.  If  this  should  prove  to  be  the  case,  our  trav- 
eler claims  the  honor  of  having  added  a  scrap 
to  ichthyological  knowledge,  and  takes  advant- 
age of  the  privilege  usually  accorded,  by  naming 
the  fish  the  Harengus  Porte  Crayonensis. 

A  first-class  fishery  employs  from  sixty  to 
eighty  persons,  all  negroes  except  the  mana- 
gers. These  are  for  the  most  part  free  negroes, 
who  live  about  in  Chowan  and  the  adjoining 
counties,  and  who,  as  the  season  approaches, 
gather  in  to  the  finny  harvest  as  to  an  annual 
festival. 

Although  they  depend  almost  entirely  upon 
this  employment  for  a  livelihood,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  they  could  be  induced  to  undergo  the 
tremendous  labor  it  involves,  were  they  not  pas- 
sionately fond  of  the  sport  and  excitement.  If 
generally  inferior  in  appearance  to  the  sleek, 
well-fed  slaves  of  the  neighboring  gentry,  there 
are  not  wanting  some  fine-looking  specimens 
among  them,  both  male  and  female. 

For  instance,  there  is  Betsy  Sweat,  herring- 
header  at  the  Belvidere,  who  might  serve  some 
sentimentalist  as  the  heroine  of  a  romance.  In 
her  person  lithe  and  graceful  as  a  black  panther, 
an  expressive  eye,  a  mouth  indicating  refinement 
and  vigorous  character  uncommon  in  her  race, 
and  whether  with  keen-edged  knife  and  admir- 
able skill  she  whipped  the  heads  off  the  sil- 
very herrings,  or  with  flaming  torch  in  hand  she 
rushed  up  the  bank  and  stood  waving  it  over  the 
busv  beach,  she  did  every  thing  with  an  air  that 


WASHING  6IIAD. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


443 


BETSY   SWEAT. 

reminded  one  of  the  great  tragedienne  Rachel. 
What  though  Betsy  was  an  abominable  slat- 
tern, smoked  a  short-stemmed  pipe  almost  in- 
cessantly, and  would  drink  numerous  consec- 
utive jiggers  of  raw  whisky  without  winking? 
The  true  romancer  seizes  the  great  and  salient 
points  of  character,  overlooking  trivial  defects, 
or  noting  them  only  as  eccentricities  of  genius. 
It  is  said  that  Guido  Reni  could  take  a  vulgar 
porter  at  the  street  corner,  and  from  him  draw 
a  magnificent  head  ;  so  may  the  skillful  writer, 
by  the  power  of  imagination,  make  heroes  and 
heroines  of  big  negroes  and  beggars'  brats.  The 
world  admires  and  weeps,  but  unfortunately  the 
real  blackamoor  remains  unwashed,  and  the  poor 
child's  head  uncombed,  as  before. 

We  might  now  take  a  walk  through  the  ex- 
tensive cooperage  and  packing-rooms,  but  these 
subjects  are  too  practical  and  smell  rather  fishy 
for  the  journal  of  a  picturesque  and  sentimental 
tourist ;  we  must,  therefore,  look  out  for  more 
congenial  subjects.  Ah !  here  is  something 
that  promises  better :  a  train  of  Gates  County 
buggies,  conducted  by  natives  from  the  interior, 
come  to  buy  fish. 

The  buggy,  so  called  probably  in  derision, 


is  a  cart  covered  with  a  white 
cotton  awning,  drawn  by  a  bony, 
barefooted  horse  with  one  eye. 
This  is  not  a  Cyclopean  monster, 
as  one  versed  in  the  classics  might 
imagine,  for  the  eye  is  not  located 
in  the  middle  of  the  forehead,  but 
on  one  side,  and  the  animal,  on 
an  average,  is  rather  below  the 
medium  size.  Nor  were  we  able 
to  ascertain  whether  Gates  Coun- 
ty furnished  a  one-eyed  breed  of 
horses,  for  our  visitors  from  the 
interior  are  not  communicative, 
their  silence  being  apparently  the 
result  of  diffidence.  But  they 
are  acute  observers,  and  sharp  as 
a  mowing-scythe  at  a  bargain. 

' '  That  chap  with  the  sorrel  head 
would  make  a  rare  sketch." 

"Neighbor,"  said  the  mana- 
ger, ' '  if  you  will  sit  for  your  por- 
trait to  this  gentleman  I'll  make 
you  a  present  of  that  fine  string 
of  rock-fish." 

The  native  paused  and  looked 
at  Crayon,  who  was  busy  pointing 
his  pencils. 

"I  don't  see,"  said  he,  tartly, 
' '  that  I  am  any  uglier  than  the 
rest  of  'em." 

"Certainly  not,  my  friend,'" 
said  Crayon,  "you  misapprehend 
my  motive  entirely.  I  merely 
desired  your  portrait  as  a  remem- 
brance, or  rather  a  specimen — or 
a — "  Here  our  artist  closed  up, 
and  the  manager  snickered  out- 
right. 

' '  I'll  tell  you  what,  Mister,  you 
needn't  think  to  make  a  fool  of  me ;  if  you'll 
jest  take  a  lookin'  glass,  and  picter  off  what  you 
see  in  it,  you'll  have  a  very  good  specimen  of  a 
bar." 

"But,  neighbor,  don't  go  off  at  half-cock; 
here's  another  superb  rock  I'll  add  to  the  bunch." 
The  indignant  countryman  hesitated,  and 
weighed  the  fish  in  his  hand.  "  Well,  you  may 
take  me  if  you  can  catch  me  while  I'm  bobbin 
around,  but  I  can't  stop  for  you." 

Having  spent  several  days  at  the  Belvidere,  a 
hospitable  invitation  induced  our  traveler  to 
move  his  quarters  to  the  Montpelier  Mansion, 
and  his  sketching  operations  to  the  fishing- 
ground  belonging  to  that  estate.  The  Mont- 
pelier beach  is  only  about  a  mile  distant  from 
the  Belvidere,  and  has  the  advantage  over  all 
others  which  he  visited  of  being  beautifully 
shaded  by  a  growth  of  lofty  trees. 

Henry  Hofner,  the  master-fisherman  at  Mont- 
pelier, is  a  model  of  his  class,  and  a  character 
not  to  be  passed  over  without  a  proper  notice. 
In  physiognomy  and  manner  he  reminds  one  of 
a  "  jimber-jawed"  bull-dog — one  of  those  fellows 
who  never  let  go.  With  an  indomitable  perse- 
verance and  sturdy  honesty  invaluable  in  an  ex- 


444 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


ecutive  officer,  he  is  a  shrewd, 
skillful,  and  experienced  officer 
in  his  vocation. 

No  one  knows  better  than  he 
how  to  interpret  the  signs  sten- 
ographed on  sky  and  water,  or 
can  more  certainly  foretell, 
from  wind  and  weather,  the 
probable  results  of  a  haul ;  no 
one  readier  than  he  to  face  an 
unpropitious  gale,  or  who  can 
more  skillfully  bring  a  seine  to 
land  through  a  roaring  surf. 

Like  all  strong  characters, 
Hoffler  has  his  instinctive  aver- 
sions, which  have  been  indulged 
in  until  they  have  acquired, 
perhaps,  an  undue  prominence. 
Loungers  about  the  fishery  he 
regards  with  inexpressible  con- 
tempt, and  endeavors  to  express 
it  by  calling  them  "Arabs" — a 
term  of  opprobrium  not  very 
clear  in  its  meaning.  His  ha- 
tred of  eels  is  an  exaggerated 
sentiment,  entirely  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  importance  of  its 
unfortunate  objects.  He  carries 
a  cane  for  the  express  purpose 
of  killing  them,  and  no  sooner 
are  the  duties  of  landing  a  haul 
attended  to  than  he  gives  way  to 
his  feelings,  and  falls  to  thrash- 
ing them,  right  and  left,  with- 
out mercy,  swearing  against  them  Mith  the  only 
oath  or  exclamation  he  ever  makes  use  of,  "My 
blessed !  I  wish  the  seed  of  'em  was  destroyed." 
Hoffler  talks  but  little,  and  what  he  says  is  to 
the  point ;  doubly  impressive  by  being  delivered 


A    NATIVE. 


in  alternate  squeaks  and  grunts — soprano  and 
basso  by  turns.  Round  a  corner  one  might  mis- 
take him  for  two  men.     Like  William  of  Delo- 


raine, 


.MY   HLESSED  ! 


Though  rude,  and  scant  of  courtesy," 

there  is  a  strong  undercurrent 
of  good  feeling  in  the  old  fish- 
erman's character,  and  a  kind- 
ly twinkle  in  his  eye,  that  fully 
make  amends  for  the  rugged 
surface. 

As  our  hero  approached  the 
beach,  this  redoubtable  person- 
age advanced  to  meet  him,  and 
s~=s     giving   his  hand    an  agonizing 
'-—         grip,  thus  saluted  him  : 

"  Good-mornin';  make  your- 
self at  home  ;  look  about." 
.  __  "Thank  you,"  replied  Cray- 
on. "  I  perceive  you  have  just 
landed  your  nets,  and  have  had 
a  good  haul." 
~V>"  Hoffler   made  no  reply,   but 

f^j  looked  in  his  face  for  a  moment, 
and  then  ran  off  to  head  an  eel 
that  was  about  escaping  into 
the  water.  Jimmy,  the  cooper, 
who  had  laid  down  his  adze  to 
stare  at  the  new-comer,  now 
hurried  out  of  the  shed. 

"Hoffler,     I    say  —  easy    in 
time — Hoffler,  I've  often  heard 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


US 


you  talk  about  Arabs,  but  that's  one  of  'em, 
sure  enough." 

"My  blessed!"  said  HofHer,  "did  you  hear 
him?  Whar  did  he  come  from?  The  man 
don't  know  a  net  from  a  seine." 

The  seven  or  eight  days  that  followed  passed 
pleasantly  enough  at  the  fishery.  There  was, 
indeed,  a  sufficiency  of  the  exciting  and  the  pic- 
turesque to  have  interested  both  sportsman  and 
artist  for  a  much  longer  time.  The  visitor  soon  be- 
gins to  feel  a  personal  interest  in  the  game.  The 
hopes,  the  fears,  the  successes  and  disappoint- 
ments of  the  fishery  become  his  own.  When  the 
seine  is  out  of  sight  upon  the  Sound  he  may 
sleep,  sketch,  or  shoot  gulls  at  pleasure ;  but  when 


the  back  fins  of  the  prey  are  seen  playing  about 
within  the  narrowing  circle,  he  must  needs 
throw  down  gun  or  pencil,  and  rush  to  the  land- 
ing. "When  it  happens  that  the  seine  is  torn  by 
the  passage  of  a  vessel,  and  the  fish  escape,  he 
joins  heartily  in  anathematizing  the  scoundrelly 
captain  whose  inconsiderate  keel  has  wrought 
the  damage,  and  concurs  with  facility  in  the  gen- 
eral opinion  that  but  for  the  break  this  would 
have  been  the  greatest  haul  on  record. 

There  is,  too,  sufficient  variety  in  the  inci- 
dents of  each  day  to  prevent  the  interest  from 
flagging.  Sometimes  it  happens  that  such  im- 
mense shoals  of  fish  are  inclosed  that  the  great 
seine  can  not  be  landed  at  once,  and  it  becomes 


446 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


necessary  to  cast  smaller  nets  within  the  large 
one,  to  bring  them  ashore  in  detail.  Sometimes 
they  bring  in  sturgeon  or  rock-fish  so  large  that 
there  is  reason  to  fear  they  may  break  the  net 
in  their  struggles.  Then  negroes  are  sent  in 
armed  with  spears  and  long-handed  hooks  to 
kill  them  and  bring  them  to  land  singly.  The 
most  diverting  incidents  attend  this  part  of  the 
sport.  The  wary  black  wades  into  the  water 
up  to  his  waist,  and,  watching  his  opportunity, 
strikes  the  hook  into  the  back  of  a  stout  stur- 
geon. The  fish  darts  off,  Cuffee  holds  on,  and 
a  struggle  commences  for  life  on  one  side  and 
fame  on  the  other.  The  fish  leaps  and  floun- 
ders, the  black  pants  and  pulls.  The  spectators 
applaud  one  party  or  the  other  according  to 
their  sympathies,  rending  the  air  with  shouts 
and  laughter.  The  sturgeon  makes  a  desperate 
plunge  and  jerks  the  pole  out  of  Cuffee' s  hands — 
overwhelmed  with  reproaches,  he  splashes  along 
in  pursuit,  and  at  length  recovers  his  hold,  but 
as  he  grasps  it,  loses  his  balance  and  disap- 
pears under  the  water.  Presently  he  reappears, 
still  hanging  on  to  the  hook.      Two  or  three  fel- 


lows rush  in  to  his  assistance,  but  the  general 
voice  cries,  "  Stand  back !  fair  play  !"  By  this 
time  the  negro's  blood  is  up,  and  disdaining 
the  advantage  of  a  weapon,  he  leaps  upon  the 
sturgeon's  back,  unmindful  of  his  rough  saddle. 
The  furious  and  bewildered  fish  darts  away  and 
lands  himself  and  rider  upon  the  sandy  shore. 
Cuffee  springs  to  his  feet,  and  seizing  his  an- 
tagonist as  Hercules  hugged  Antaeus,  bears  him 
out  of  reach  of  his  native  element  and  slams  him 
triumphantly  upon  the  ground. 

"Aha!  got  you  now,  you  mizzible  long- 
winded  cuss!" 

The  grinning  victor  is  applauded,  and  re- 
ceives an  extra  dram  as  his  reward. 

Without  noticing  Horner's  especial  enemies, 
the  Arabs,  the  society  on  the  beach  is  varied 
daily  by  the  arrival  of  legitimate  and  character- 
istic visitors.  There  is  the  Yankee  sea-captain, 
whose  vessel  rides  in  the  offing,  a  shrewd,  enter- 
taining fellow,  who  can  tell  quaint  stories  of 
sea-faring  life,  and  quiz  the  provincials,  who 
come  down  with  their  buggies  to  get  a  thousand 
herring  and  a  few  dozen  pcarch  or  so. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


447 


MONTPELIF/K   BEACH. 


Then  there  comes  old  Aunt  Rose,  with  a 
basket  on  her  arm,  to  be  filled  with  cat-fish  or 
"some  o'  dem  red  hosses,"  as  she  styles  the 
suckers.  Aunt  Rose  is  communicative  enough 
considering  the  amount  she  has  to  communi- 
cate. You  drop  a  dime  into  her  basket  and  civ- 
illy inquire  her  age. 

"Lord  bless  you,  honey,  how  does  I  know? 
I  was  borned  over  on  toder  side  of  de  Sound — 
white  folks  over  dar  knows.  Lemme  see,  when 
ole  miss's  mother  was  married  I  was  den  a  right 
smart  gal — dat  makes  me  a  risin'  o'  sixty,  or 
seventy,  or  maybe  bout  a  hundred — any  way, 
white  folks  over  de  Sound  knows." 

When  more  exciting  entertainment  was  want- 
ing, one  could  help  old  HofSer  to  kill  eels — not 
in  his  absurd  way  by  beating  them  with  a  blud- 
geon, but  more  considerately  by  sticking  a  knife 
through  their  tails,  making  a  groove  in  the  sand, 
and  laying  them  in  it  on  their  backs,  or  drop- 
ping them  alive  into  a  barrel  of  pickle. 

"Mr.  Crayon,  Mr.  Crayon!  could  you  have 
so  far  forgotten  personal  dignity  and  the  com- 
mon sentiments  of  humanity  ?  This  comes  of 
a  man  traveling  off  by  himself  without  the  ele- 
vating and  civilizing  companionship  of  the  soft- 
er sex." 

Porte  Crayon  looked  at  us  fixedly  for  some 
moments. 

"  I  do  think,"  he  at  length  replied,  "  that  if 
entirely  deprived  of  the  society  of  women,  men 
would  in  a  short  time  relapse  into  barbarism; 
but  I  also  think  your  sentimentality  about  the 
eels  extremely  ridiculous." 


If,  at  length,  the  sports  on  the  beach  grow 
stale  from  custom,  the  sojourner  may  find  some- 
thing to  interest  him  in  the  adjoining  country. 
Bordering  on  the  Sound  and  around  Edenton 
are  many  handsome  residences  and  well-im- 
proved estates,  whose  names,  Belvidere,  Mont- 
pelier,  Mulberry  Hill,  etc.,  in  a  country  almost 
as  level  as  the  surface  of  the  water,  exhibit  the 
disposition  of  the  human  mind  to  cherish  pleas- 
ant illusions  in  the  midst  of  adverse  ciraim- 
stances. 

Here,  on  an  April  day,  drinking  in  the  per- 
fumed air,  the  earth  around  him  just  bursting 
into  luxuriant  bloom,  making  the  simple  con- 
sciousness of  existence  a  soul-filling  delight,  the 
stranger  first  begins  to  realize  his  ideal  of  South- 
ern life — a  life  that  for  the  Northern  world  ex- 
ists only  in  books  and  dreams.  But  to  complete 
our  picture  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner,  let 
us  dwell  upon  it  a  little  longer — let  us  live 
through  a  day  together. 

Imagine  yourself  a  guest  in  one  of  those  hos- 
pitable mansions.  Shall  we  begin  the  day  at 
sunrise  ?  If  so,  then  you  must  imagine  your- 
self in  bed,  the  sun  bidding  you  good-morning 
through  a  screen  of  honey-suckles  or  rose  bush- 
es ;  you  lie  half  conscious  of  existence,  recall- 
ing a  night  of  moonlight,  mocking-birds,  and 
pleasant  dreams.  Presently,  with  noiseless  step, 
a  servant  glides  into  your  room,  and  you  hear 
the  fresh  water  gushing  into  your  pitcher,  sug- 
gesting thoughts  of  Moorish  fountains,  and  then 
you  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  retreating  shadow 
carrying  off  your  boots.    Again  you  relapse  into 


•148 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  JIAGAZLNE. 


dreams.  How  long  it  matters  not ;  but  the 
blissful  trance  is  at  length  broken  by  a  soft 
voice — "Breakfast  is  ready,  Sir."  The  idea 
of  breakfast  is  a  stimulant,  and  you  start  up. 
A  fresh-washed,  bright-eyed  boy  of  five  years 
old  stands  beside  you,  joyful  messenger,  hope- 
ful scion  of  a  gentle  race,  practicing  the  sweet 
courtesies  of  social  life  ere  his  tongue  has  lost 
the  lisp  of  infancy.  "Thank  you,  little  mas- 
ter ;  I'll  be  there  anon." 

Now  you  may  make  your  toilet  without  more 
circumlocution.  After  coffee  and  hot  cakes, 
seasoned  with  broiled  shad,  ham  and  eggs,  or 
any  other  delicacy  of  the  season  that  may  have 
been  incidentally  alluded  to  on  the  preceding 
evening,  you  are  ready  to  begin  the  day.  A 
visit  to  some  of  the  neighboring  fisheries  is  sug- 
gested. It  promises  nothing  new,  but  the  trip 
itself  will  be  agreeable.  The  visit  is  consider- 
ately determined  upon.  Then  shall  we  go  by 
land  or  water?  The  buggy  stands  at  the  gate, 
and  the  boat  is  anchored  off  the  beach.  The 
roads  are  smooth,  and  the  trotter  paws  the 
ground  impatiently.  The  breeze  is  freshening 
over  the  Sound,  and  the  yacht  will  carry  us  gal- 
lantly. 

"Let  them  put  up  the  trotter.  Ned!  get  the 
boat  ready." 

A  stout  sailor-looking  black  draws  up  the 
craft  and  rigs  the  mast  in  a  trice.  "Push  off, 
good-by!"  and  away  we  dart,  like  a  white  gull, 
into  the  middle  of  the  Sound.  Our  vessel  moves 
like  a  race-horse,  tacking  in  and  out,  with  a 
spanking  breeze  on  her  quarter.  Sometimes 
leaving  the  fisheries  on  the  northern  shore  al- 
most out  of  sight,  then  bearing  down  upon  them 
so  near  that  you  might  hail  the  foreman  to  ask, 
"What  luck?'' 


horn  ait11. 


So  we  go  down  the  Sound  some  eight  or  ten 
miles,  far  enough  to  have  a  good  run  back  before 
the  wind.  But  it  would  not  be  neighborly  to  re- 
turn without  calling  in  to  pay  our  respects  and 
to  inquire  after  the  success  of  our  friends.  So 
we  run  in  to  a  landing,  are  warmly  welcomed, 
of  course,  invited  up  to  the  office,  where  we  take 
some  refreshment,  also,  of  course.  [N.B.  The 
water  in  flat  countries  is  considered  unwhole- 
some for  strangers,  and  is  not  highly  esteemed 
by  the  natives  themselves.]  Then,  in  a  cheerful, 
friendly  way,  we  begin  to  compare  our  fishing 
experiences.  How  many  shad  and  how  many 
herring  we've  averaged ;  what  they  are  doing  at 
Benbury's;  what  hauls  Cheshire  has  made,  and 
how  Wood  is  getting  on.  A  week's  visit  is  suf- 
ficient to  make  one  feel  himself  a  full  partner 
in  any  of  the  fisheries,  and  the  visitor  always 


e::AT  OF  JAilES   C.  J<.>I1NS0>,  Esij 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


449 


of  our  beach   and  our 
hauls.     Now  it  is  time  to  go. 

"But,  gentlemen,  you  must 
positively  stay  to  dinner.  We 
can  offer  you  no  great  tempta- 
tion; only  a  fisherman's  fare, 
the  best  we  have,  and  a  hearty 
welcome." 

That  might  tempt  a  prince  ; 
but  we've  arranged  to  dine  at 
home,  and  so  we  take  leave,  and 
are  presently  driving  before  the 
wind  at  the  rate  of  two-forty,  or 
thereabout — we  can't  be  very 
exact,  as  we  have  no  thermome- 
t3r.  After  dinner  we  may  drive 
to  Edenton  or  not  as  we  feel 
disposed.  Eor  my  part  I  prefer 
lounging  about  the  shore,  taking 
a  siesta,  perhaps,  under  an  ar- 
bor of  wild  vines. 

Gorgeous  in  purple  and  gold 
the  sun  sinks  beneath  the  dis- 
tant horizon.  The  breeze  has 
1  ailed,  and  the  calm  water  re- 
flects the  violet-tinted  sky  like 
a  vast  mirror.  With  a  wild  and  pleasing  melo- 
dy the  songs  of  the  distant  fishermen  break  the 
stillness  of  the  evening,  and  the  eye  may  now 
trace  the  whole  circuit  of  the  seine,  dotted  for 
a  mile  or  more  on  the  glassy  surface  of  the 
Sound. 

But  mark  that  dead  cedar,  half  clothed  in  a 
gauzy  robe  of  vines  ;  how  entreatingly  it  seems 
to  stretch  its  skeleton  arms  over  something  at 
its  foot,  like  hopeless,  half- frantic  Niobe,  shield- 
ing the  last  of  her  children.  Here,  indeed,  is  a 
little  grass-grown  space,  respected  by  the  plow- 
man, and  two  old  tombs  almost  hidden  by  the 
overhanging  vines.  Push  these  away,  and  there 
is  still  light  enough  to  enable  us  to  read  the 
quaint  inscriptions. 

HERE   LYES   INTERRED   Y«    BODY    OF 

HENDERSON   WALKER,    ESQ'.,    PRESIDENT    OF 

Y9  COUNCIL    AND    COMMANDER     IN    CIIEIF    OF 

NORTH    CAROLINA,    DURING    WHOSE 

ADMINISTRATION    Y8    PROVINCE    INJOYED 

THAT   TRANQUILITY    WHICH   IS  TO  BE    WISHED 

IT  MAY   NEVER   WANT.      HE   DEPARTED   THIS   LIFE 

APRIL   Ye   14TU,    1T04.      AGED   44   YEARS. 

ON  THE  NORTH    SIDE   OF  THIS   TOMB   LIES   THE   BODY 

OF   GEORGE   LILLINGTON,    SON    OF   MAJOR 

ALEXANDER  LILLINGTON,    WHO    DECd.    IN   Y8   15   YEAR   Or 

HIS  AGE,    ANNO   1T05. 


HERE   LY'ES   THE  BODY    OF 

ANNE   MOSELY, 

WIFE    OF    EDWARD    MOSELY,     ESQ., 

SHE   WAS  DAUGHTER    OF  MAJOR  ' 

ALEXANDER   LILLINGTON,    ESQ.,    AND   THE 

WIDOW   OF  THE    HOsWe.    HENDERSON   WALKER, 

ESQ.,    LATE   PRESIDENT   OF   HIS   MAJESTY'S 

COUNCIL   OF   NORTH  CAROLINA. 

SHE  DEPARTED   THIS   LIFE 

NOVEMBER  19,    ANNO   DONy.    1732, 

AGED  55   YEARS   &   5  MONTHS. 

The  tombs  are  situated  on  a  point  of  land, 
not  far  from  the  water,  and  sufficiently  elevated 
above  it  to  command  an  extensive  prospect  in 
every  direction.  Altogether,  we  have  seldom 
seen  a  more  romantic  spot  for  a  burial-place. 
Vol.  XIV.— No.  82.— F  f 


GOVERNOR   WALKER  S   TOMB. 

The  unpretending  tablets  are  still  in  good  pres- 
ervation, having  been  treated  leniently  by  time, 
and  bearing  no  marks  from  the  hand  of  that 
wanton  desecrator,  man.  Are  our  brethren  of 
North  Carolina  more  elevated  in  moral  civiliza- 
tion than  their  neighbors,  or  have  the  voiceless 
prayers  of  the  old  cedar  prevailed  ? 

By  a  singular  coincidence  we  happened  here 
on  the  14th  of  April,  the  anniversary  of  the 
Governor's  death.  A  hundred  and  fifty-two 
years  had  elapsed  since  he  had  made  his  honored 
exit  from  the  stage  of  life.  Here  was  sugges- 
tion enough  for  thought,  but  a  man's  reflections 
while  sitting  on  a  tomb-stone  will  scarcely  be  ap- 
preciated by  one  lounging  on  a  cut-velvet  sofa, 
so  we  will  discreetly  pass  them  over.  Nathless 
we  tarried  there  until  the  chill  moon  marked  our 
shadow  upon  the  trunk  of  the  blasted  cedar, 
and  the  mocking-bird,  whose  nest  was  in  the 
old  grape-vine,  began  his  evening  song. 

But  in  these  listless  wanderings  we  must  not 
overlook  our  central  point,  the  old  historic  town 
of  Edenton.  This  place  was  established  in  the 
year  1 71 6,  and  was  originally  called  Queen  Anne's 
Creek,  which  name  was  afterward  changed  to 
Edenton,  in  compliment  to  Charles  Eden,  the 
royal  governor  of  the  province,  appointed  in 
1720.  The  early  records  of  the  courts  are  said 
to  contain  matter  of  great  historic  interest,  but 
these  are  now  at  Raleigh,  the  capital  of  the 
State.  Porte  Crayon  told  us  privately  that  he 
was  glad  of  it,  and  also  intimated  that  he  infi- 
nitely preferred  fresh  shad  to  musty  records.. 
This,  from  a  pretender  to  scholarship,  is  an  au- 
dacious admission  ;  but  the  good-natured  pub- 
lic will,  perhaps,  excuse  him. 

We  will,  however,  on  our  own  responsibili- 
ty, venture  to  quote  two  suggestive  items  from 
Wheeler's  History  : 

"  From  an  old  custom-house  book,  now  in  possession  of. 


450 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


J.  M.  Jones,  Esq.,  of  Edenton,  it  appears  that  in  July, 
176S,  the  ship  Amelia  cleared  hence,  with  an  assorted  car- 
go, among  which  were  three  bags  of  cotton." 

"  By  some  strange  freak  of  circumstance,  many  years 
ago,  there  was  found  at  Gibraltar  a  beautiful  picture, 
done  in  a  skillful  style,  enameled  on  glass,  '  A  Meeting  of 
the  Ladies  of  Edenton  Destroying  the  Tea,  when  Taxed 
by  the  English  Parliament.'  This  picture  was  procured 
by  some  of  the  officers  of  our  navy,  and  was  sent  to  Eden- 
ton, where  I  saw  it,  in  1S30." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Porte  Crayon  did  not 
get  a  sight  of  this  painting,  that  the  world  might 
have  heard  more  of  it,  and  that  the  patriotism 
of  the  ladies  of  Edenton  might  have  been  blaz- 
oned beside  that  of  the  men  of  Boston,  which 
has  figured  in  so  many  bad  wood-cuts. 

The  modern  Edenton  is  a  pleasant  little  place, 
of  some  fifteen  hundred  inhabitants,  who  seem 
to  take  the  world  very  philosophically.  It  con- 
tains a  number  of  neat,  old-fashioned  residen- 
ces, and  several  of  more  recent  construction, 
that  would  figure  handsomely  in  the  environs 
of  New  York. 

The  court-house  green,  sloping  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  shaded  with  fine  old  trees,  is 
one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  village.  The 
ivy-mantled  church,  St.  Paul's,  was  built  about 
1725,  and  is  evidently  the  pet  of  the  place.  The 
handsomely  improved  cemetery  around  it  gives 
ample  evidence  of  the  wealth  and  cultivated 
taste  of  the  community. 

"To  speak  further,"  says  Mr.  Crayon,  "of 
those  matters  which  were  especially  pleasing  to 


me — the  quiet  streets  and  deserted  wharves — • 
might  be  deemed  superfluous  by  those  who 
think  a  town  without  commerce  is  dead  and 
half  dishonored.  But  to  one  thoroughly  dis- 
gusted with  the  haste  and  hubbub  of  large  cit- 
ies, there  is  an  air  of  blest  repose,  of  good-hu- 
mored languor  hanging  about  these  old  towns 
that  is  positively  enchanting."  But,  like  the 
voyager  on  the  stream  of  life,  we  are  not  per- 
mitted long  to  linger  on  the  green  spots  where 
pleasant  flowers  bloom.  We  can  but  cull  a  bo- 
qixet  in  passing,  enjoy  its  evanescent  bloom,  re- 
tain a  few  dried  and  colorless  impressions  in  the 
leaves  of  a  book,  and  hasten  on  our  way,  hap- 
py if  the  interval  is  short  between  the  fading 
twilight  of  regret  and  the  fresh  dawn  of  expec- 
tation. 

Porte  Crayon  had  his  knapsack  packed  and 
buckled  down,  but  as  the  steamer  which  was  to 
convey  him  to  Plymouth  was  not  expected  un- 
til late  in  the  afternoon,  he  determined  to  take 
a  parting  look  at  the  fisheries,  to  shake  honest 
Hoffler  by  the  hand,  and  once  more  bid  adieu 
to  his  kind  and  hospitable  entertainers. 

"Hoffler!"  said  Jimmy,  the  cooper,  "easy 
in  time  :  I've  found  it  out.  That's  none  of  your 
Arabs  ;  that's  the  author  of  Harper's  Maga- 
zine /" 

"Don't  tell  me,  Jimmy  ;  Boss  said  he  was  a 
man  of  mark — had  traveled  ;  but,  my  blessed, 
he  don't  know  a  net  from  a  seine  !" 


BT.  PAUL'S  CUTOCU,  EPKNTON. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


/tui.'tsi 


741 


MAJOS  BULBOUS. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 

DY  PORTE  CRAYON. 
II.— THE  PINY  WOODS. 

Ye  gods  of  quiet  and  of  sleep  profound, 

Whose  soft  dominion  o'er  this  country  sways, 

And  all  the  widely  silent  places  round. 
Forgive  me  if  my  trembling  pen  displays 
What  never  yet  was  sung  in  mortal  lays. 

Thomson-. 

"VTEARLY  the  whole  of  the  eastern  part  of 
-L*  North  Carolina  is  covered  with  pine  for- 
ests, extending  from  the  swampy  country  bor- 
dering the  sea-board  as  far  back  as  Raleigh,  the 
capital  of  the  State.  This  section  is  sparsely 
populated,  but  little  improved,  and  although  it 
furnishes  the  greater  portion  of  all  the  resinous 
matter  used  in  ship-building  in  the  Lrnited 
States,  it  has  hitherto  been  little  known.  It  is 
called  by  the  Carolinians  "The  Piny  Woods," 
and  we  must  prepare  to  follow  our  persever- 
ing traveler,  Porte  Crayon,  in  his  wanderings 
through  this  primitive  and  lonely  region. 

At  Plymouth  we  find  him  seated  on  the 
porch,  at  Enoch  Jones's  Hotel,  looking  as  lazy 
and  listless  as  if  he  were  a  citizen  of  the  place. 
Plymouth,  we  believe,  is  the  county  town  of 
Washington,  situated  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  Sound  from  Edenton,  a  short  distance  up 
the  Roanoke,  and  contains  a  thousand  or  twelve 
hundred  inhabitants. 

It  is  the  successful  commercial  rival  of  Eden- 
ton, and  plumes  itself  on  its  business  activity, 
Tiot  without  reason,  for  Crayon  reports  that  its 
wharves  were  crowded  with  six  or  seven  sloops ; 
and  during  the  day  he  staid  there,  no  less 
than  three  vessels  loaded  with  lumber  hauled 
up  to  take  in  grog  and  then  passed  on  their 
way.  The  shores  of  the  Roanoke  in  the  vicin- 
ity are  low  and  swampy,  and  although  the  vil- 
lage is  not  unpleasing  to  the  eye,  it  contains 


nothing  of  sufficient  interest  to  detain  the  trav- 
eler long.  How  Porte  Crayon  came  to  remain 
here  for  thirty-six  hours,  happened  in  this  wise. 

He  had  been  extremely  desirous  to  obtain  a 
passage  to  Roanoke  Island,  and  having  failed 
to  do  so  on  the  other  side  of  the  Sound,  had 
hopes  of  being  able  here  to  find  a  vessel  out- 
ward-bound. Accompanied  by  his  obliging 
landlord,  he  visited  several  taverns  and  dog- 
geries near  the  river,  and  at  length  found  the 
commander  of  a  lumber  sloop,  whose  vessel 
was  to  sail  seaward  at  early  dawn  next  morn- 
ing. Crayon  felicitated  himself  on  this  fortu- 
nate rencontre,  and  the  captain  cheerfully 
agreed  to  take  a  passenger,  at  the  same  time 
dropping  a  modest  hint  about  rough  fare.  A 
Roanoke  Islander,  who  was  returning  home  by 
the  same  vessel,  also  volunteered  to  attend  at 
the  appointed  hour  with  his  canoe  at  the  steam- 
boat landing,  to  take  our  hero  aboard  the  vessel, 
which  lay  out  in  the  stream.  This  was  most 
satisfactory.  The  agreement  was  forthwith 
sealed  with  a  glass  of  "something  all  round," 
and  Crayon  returned  to  his  quarters  in  a  state 
of  pleasurable  excitement.  That  night  he 
dreamed  of  taking  a  glass  of  grog  with  Cap- 
tains Barlow  and  Amidas.  Then  the  bronzed 
and  weather-beaten  faces  of  these  worthies 
faded  away,  and  still  wandering  in  dreams,  he 
was  in  an  extensive  grove  of  live-oaks. 

"I  delight  in  dreams, "  quoth  Crayon.  ' '  In 
dreams  only  can  the  soul  realize  its  full  capac- 
ity for  feeling.  When  cold,  tyrannical  reason 
sleeps,  fancy  may  revel  unchidden  and  un- 
checked, like  a  joyous  child  when  a  captious, 
repressing  step-mother  is  away.  What  though 
the  dreamer's  hunger  is  never  satisfied,  and  his 
thirst  never  quenched — -what  though  his  bliss  is 
fleeting  as  the  gilding  of  a  morning  cloud — tell 


742 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


me,  ye  that  know,  wherein  our  waking  life  is 
better  ? 

"But  to  return  to  my  dream  :  straying 
through  this  grove  of  live-oaks  for  some  dis- 
tance, I  at  length  came  upon  an  open  space 
where  stood  an  Indian  encampment.  All 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  life,  yet  all  was  si- 
lence. As  I  passed  along  in  the  midst,  appar- 
ently unnoticed,  I  saw  groups  of  grim-painted 
warriors  leaning  on  their  bows  and  war-clubs  ; 
others  reclined  in  front  of  their  lodges,  smok- 
ing ;  while  others  were  employed  in  sharpening 
their  spears  and  feathering  their  bone-pointed 
arrows.  Copper-colored  children  rolled  and 
tumbled  over  the  grass,  and  leather-faced 
squaws  were  variously  occupied  in  all  the  do- 
mestic drudgeries  of  the  camp. 

"I  paused  at  length  before  a  lodge  whose  su- 
perior size  and  decorations  proclaimed  the  dwell- 


ing of  a  chieftain.  As  I  gazed  in  dreamy  won- 
der the  grass-woven  screen  which  served  as  a 
doorwas  pushed  aside,  and  a  maiden  of  exquisite 
beauty  came  forth.  As  she  stood  for  a  time  in 
thoughtful  silence,  I  had  opportunity  to  consider 
the  matchless  beauty  of  her  face,  and  the  faultless 
symmetry  of  her  form,  which,  if  it  could  not  be 
improved,  was  but  little  marred  by  the  barbaric 
splendor  of  her  costume.  Her  tunic  was  of 
woven  bark  tissue,  white  as  paper  and  liyht  as 
silk,  curiously  and  beautifully  wrought  with 
many-colored  shells.  Her  dainty  feet  were 
half  hidden  in  embroidered  moccasins,  her 
wrists  and  ankles  clasped  by  bands  of  shining 
gold.  A  richly-ornamented  sash  bound  her 
delicate  waist,  and  a  necklace  of  gold  and  white 
coral  hung  about  her  neck.  Though  her  attire 
was  that  of  an  Indian  princess,  her  skin  was 
of  dazzling  whiteness,  and  her  dimpled  cheek 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


743 


flushed  with  the  freshest  rose. 
Her  round,  wondering  eyes  were 
of  a  tender  blue,  and  the  plumy 
circlet  on  her  head  rested  on  a 
luxuriant  mass  of  flaxen  hair, 
that  fell  in  wild  ringlets  over  her 
graceful  shoulders,  and  down- 
ward until  it  became  entangled 
with  the  shell-wrought  fringe  of 
her  girdle. 

"At  the  appearance  of  this 
bright  vision  there  was  a  general 
movement  in  the  camp,  and  the 
warriors  approached  her  with 
looks  of  mingled  love  and  rev- 
erence. More  than  one  young 
brave,  of  tall  and  goodly  person, 
gallantly  betrophied  with  eagles' 
feathers  and  bears'  claws,  ad- 
vanced tremblingly  as  if  to  prof- 
fer service,  but  a  gentle  wave  of 
her  white  hand  sent  them  crest- 
fallen and  disappointed  back. 

"Then  a  more  aged  man 
approached,  who,  by  his  dress, 
might  have  been  a  priest  or 
prophet.  He  was  profusely 
decked  with  golden  ornaments  ; 
a  broad  gold  ring  hung  in  his 
nose,  and  in  the  wide  slits  in  his 
enormous  ears  were  twined  two 
living  green  snakes,  whose  loath- 
some beauty  seemed  fitly  to  dec- 
orate the  hideous  head  that  bore 
them.  As  he  advanced  with  more 
audacity  than  the  rest,  the  maiden's  childlike 
face  changed  its  expression  of  thoughtful  dig- 
nity to  one  of  disgust,  and  half  of  terror.  Yet, 
as  if  unused  to  fear,  she  stamped  her  little  foot 
like  an  angered  fawn,  and  waved  him  off  with 
quick  and  imperious  gesture.  -  Sullen  and  venge- 
ful was  the  scowl  that  darkened  his  face  as  he 
retired  ;  but  neither  respect  for  the  great  brave, 
nor  awe  of  the  mighty  necromancer,  could  re- 
press the  gleam  of  satisfaction  that  lighted  the 
faces  of  the  younger  warriors  at  this  discomfit- 
ure. 

"  The  beautiful  princess  went  her  way  alone, 
by  a  path  which  led  to  the  forest  shade.  Un- 
seen and  unregarded  as  a  spirit  in  the  land  of 
the  living,  I  followed  her  springing  footsteps — 
half  wondering,  half  worshiping.  When  she 
had  gone  a  long  way  from  the  camp,  and  reach- 
ed a  secluded  spot  in  the  forest,  she  paused 
and  stood  in  an  attitude  of  anxious  expectation. 
Her  suspense  was  of  short  duration,  for  pres- 
ently an  arrow,  bound  with  flowers,  fell  at  her 
feet.  She  started,  a  flush  of  pleasure  overspread 
her  face,  and  ere  she  could  stoop  to  take  up  the 
messenger  of  joy,  a  princely  youth  came  bound- 
ing through  the  woodland  and  knelt  at  her  feet. 
With  a  look  full  of  idolatrous  love,  he  bowed 
himself;  but  she  raised  him  up,  and  ere  long 
her  flaxen  tresses  were  nestled  lovingly  upon 
that  manly  breast. 

"Then  a  thought  flashed  upon  me  like  a 


m  I 


VIRGINIA  DAEE. 

gleam  of  sunshine  in  a  shady  dell.  '  It  is,  it  is ! 
it  must  be  she !  she  did  not  perish  with  the 
rest !  She  was  saved — saved,  sweet,  exotic 
flower !  to  bloom  so  gloriously  in  the  far  wil- 
derness amidst  these  savage  weeds  of  humanity 
— to  reign  a  queen  over  these  rude  beasts — to  be 
worshiped,  perhaps  idolized !  Ah  me !  with 
such  a  divinity  it  would  not  be  very  hard  to  turn 
idolator.  Could  I  but  speak  now,  to  claim 
kindred  with  her — first-born  of  English  blood 
upon  this  mighty  continent — Virginia  Dare — to 
hear,  mayhap,  from  her  sweet  lips,  something  of 
the  fate  of  that  lost  colony ;  something  to  fill 
that  mournfulest  blank  in  the  pages  of  history.' 
"  Too  late  ;  for  suddenly  a  yell  broke  on  my 
ear, 

'  As  all  the  fiends  from  heaven  that  fell, 
Had  pealed  the  hanner-ery  of  hell.' 

A  hundred  shadowy  forms  came  rushing  through 
the  forest,  and  foremost  of  all  the  ring-nosed 
prophet,  with  snaky  eyes  bent  on  the  youthful 
lovers.  'Accursed  juggler !'  I  cried,  'this  is 
your  villainy.  But  your  blasting  eyes  shall  never 
see  their  capture  !'  With  superhuman  energy 
I  leaped  upon  him,  and  as  we  fell  he  uttered  a 
frantic  scream — which  woke  me. 

"  I  found  myself  standing  in  the  middle  of 
my  room  at  Enoch  Jones's,  and  became  aware 
that  an  obstreperous  shanghai  in  a  tree  hard  by 
was  crowing  for  day.  If  I  could  but  have 
spoken  to  her,"  continued  Crayon,  "I  should 


744 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


have  been  content  to  die,  and  have  been  a  hap- 
pier man  for  the  rest  of  my  life." 

Hurrying  on  his  clothes,  and  slinging  his 
knapsack,  our  hero  hastened  to  the  place  of 
rendezvous  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  He  ar- 
rived a  little  before  the  appointed  hour,  and 
finding  no  one  to  meet  him,  shouted,  called,  and 
signaled  in  vain,  until  the  time  was  past.  He 
:  lien  visited  the  half  dozen  tenantless  sloops  ly- 
ing at  the  wharves,  thinking  it  possible  that  the 
Empire  might  have  changed  her  position  during 
the  night ;  and,  finally,  wearied  with  the  fruitless 
search,  he  lay  down  upon  a  bale  of  cotton  and 
slept.  About  sunrise  the  wharf-master  came 
down,  and  informed  him  that  the  faithless  skip- 
per had  weighed  anchor  about  midnight,  and 
by  this  time  was  jirobably  far  out  on  the  Sound. 
Sloth  and  philosophy  are  said  to  be  near  akin, 
but  it  recmired  the  assistance  of  both  to  enable 
Crayon  to  keep  cool  on  the  reception  of  this 
intelligence.  To  his  honor  be  it  said,  that  he 
succeeded  in  his  efforts.  He  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  mildly  expressed  a  hope  that  the 
sloop  with  her  commander  might  sink  to  the 
(wttom  of  the  sea,  and  then,  feeling  amiable  as 
Uncle  Toby,  returned  to  the  hotel. 

The  attempt  to  get  oft'  by  this  line  having 
proved  a  failure,  Crayon  ascertained  that  the 
stage-coach  for  Washington  started  early  on  the 
following  morning.  Here  was  a  chance,  but 
what  was  he  to  do  in  the  mean  time.  The 
loungers  on  the  tavern  porch  spent  the  morning 
in  discussing  the  merits  of  a  dispute  between 
Williamston,  a  little  place  up  the  Roanoke,  and 
the  proprietors  of  the  steamboat  line.  The 
Williamstonians  desired  the  extension  of  the 
line  to  their  city.  The  boats  thought  it  wouldn't 
pay;  hence  the  controversy.  As  there  was  not 
much  in  the  subject,  it  died  out  about  the  heat 


of  the  day,  and  then  followed  a  dead  calm. 
This  was  disturbed  at  intervals  by  a  dog -fight ; 
a  negro  brat  tumbling  down  the  steps ;  and,  final- 
ly, about  twelve  o'clock,  by  a  drunken  fellow 
who  called  for  "  licker."  The  request  was  neg- 
atived. Boosey  obsti-eperously  insisted.  The 
landlord  stood  firm,  and  there  was  great  hope 
of  a  row.  But  just  at  the  crisis  of  the  dispute. 
Boosey  basely  yielded  and  retired — so  com- 
pletely does  drunkenness  undermine  a  man's 
high  moral  nature. 

After  dinner,  Crayon  repaired  to  the  wharf 
and  sat  upon  the  cotton  bales  again,  from  whence 
he  watched  two  boys  fishing.  They  caught  no- 
thing, and  our  hero  sunk  to  sleep. 

Toward  evening  the  tavern  porch  got  more 
lively.  Some  one  had  set  a  negro  boy  to  try- 
ing the  speed  of  a  trotter  up  and  down  the  level 
street,  and  this  entertainment  collected  all  the 
available  idlers  and  horse-fanciers  in  the  vicin- 
ity. 

"That  hoss,"  said  the  stage-driver,  address- 
ing himself  to  Mr.  Crayon,  ' '  that  hoss  reminds 
me  of  a  hoss  that  old  Major  Bulbous  used  to 
drive  in  that  old  stick  gig  of  his'n.     I  see  him 

once,"  continued  the  narrator,  "  atwixt  G 

and  E ,  where  I  druv  a  coach  for  a  while, 

a-coming  tip  through  the  Piny  Woods,  in  sich  a 
pickle  as  I  never  see  a  man  before  or  sence.  At 
fust  I  thought  it  was  one  of  these  steam-engines 
tearing  along  the  road  by  itself,  but  as  he  come 
alongside  I  see  it  was  the  Major  in  his  gig.  His 
skin  was  pretty  full,  he  was  driving  like  thun- 
der, and  his  gig  all  afire.  'Halloo,  Major,' 
says  I,  '  stop  ! '  But  he  only  cussed  me  black 
and  blue.  Then  one  of  the  passengers  cried 
out,  '  Halloo,  old  fellow,  whar  did  you  come 
from?'  'From  hell,'  says  he,  giving  his  hoss 
the  whip.       'Well,  I  should  have  thought  so 


i :,( Wt/1 Mi.  .b 

.Mill 


■>jk-  m:f 


-  ill 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED 


7tt 


from  appearances,'  said  the  passenger.  By 
this  time  the  Major  was  out  of  sight,  leaving  a 
streak  of  smoke  behind  him,  perhaps  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  long.  No  doubt  the  gig  caught  fire 
from  a  cigar,  for  he  was  much  in  the  habit  of 
smoking  as  he  traveled." 

"  And  what  became  of  him  ?" 
"Why,  they  say,  in  passing  through  the 
swamp  near  his  house,  the  wheel  struck  a  cy- 
press-knee and  flung  him  out  into  the  water. 
The  horse  run  home  with  the  gig  in  a  blaze, 
and  made  straight  for  the  barn-yard.  By  good 
luck  the  gate  was  shut,  or  he  might  have  set 
the  whole  premises  on  fire.  They  say  the 
Major  didn't  get  drunk  for  well-nigh  a  month 
arterward." 

From  Plymouth  to  "Washington  the  road  is 
generally  good,  and  the  coaches  make  very  fair 
speed.  Nevertheless,  the  leisurely  habits  of  the 
people  during  the  necessary  stoppages  for  wa- 
tering and  changing  teams,  give  ample  time  to 
note  the  peculiarities  of  the  country.  Its  feat- 
ures are  monotonous  in  the  extreme,  varied 
only  by  alternate  swamp  and  piny  woods ;  the 
former  bordering  the  water-courses,  the  latter 
covering  the  sandy  ridges  between. 

These  forests  are  of  the  long-leafed  pine,  the 
Pinus  palustris  of  the  Southern  States.  ■  From 
them  is  gathered  one  of  the  great  staples  of 
North  Carolina  —  the  turpentine.  And  al- 
though this  product  and  its  derivatives  are,  in 
our  country,  almost  in  as  common  use  as  bread 
and  meat,  very  little  is  known  of  the  manner 
of  procuring  them.  We  will  therefore  en- 
deavor to  describe  it  accurately,  relying  upon 
such  sketches  and  observations  as  Crayon  was 
enabled  to  make  during  his  tour. 

These  trees  at  maturity  are  seventy  or  eighty 
feet  high,  and  their  trunks  eighteen  or  twen- 
ty inches  in  diameter  near  the  base.  They 
grow  close  together,  very  straight,  and  without 
branches  to  two-thirds  of  their  height.  Over- 
head, their  interlocking  crowns  form  a  continu- 
ous shady  canopy ;  while  beneath,  the  ground 
is  covered  with  a  thick,  yellow  matting  of  pine- 
straw,  clean,  dry,  level,  and  unbroken  by  under- 
growth. The  privilege  of  tapping  the  trees  is 
generally  farmed  out  by  the  landowner,  at  a 
stated  price  per  thousand,  say  from  twenty  to 
thirty  dollars.  Under  this  privilege  the  laborer 
commences  his  operations.  During  the  winter 
he  chops  deep  notches  in  the  base  of  the  tree,  a 
few  inches  from  the  ground,  and  slanting  in- 
ward. Above,  to  the  height  of  two  or  three 
feet,  the  surface  is  scarified  by  chipping  off  the 
bark  and  outer  wood.  From  this  surface  the 
resinous  sap  begins  to  flow  about  the  middle  of 
March,  at  first  very  slowly,  but  more  rapidly 
during  the  heat  of  summer,  and  slowly  again  as 
winter  approaches.  The  liquid  turpentine  runs 
into  the  notches,  or  boxes,  as  they  are  techni- 
cally called,  each  holding  from  a  quart  to  half  a 
gallon.  This,  as  it  gathers,  is  dipped  out  with 
a  wooden  spoon,  barreled,  and  carried  to  market, 
where  it  commands  the  highest  price.  That 
which  oozes  out  and  hardens  upon  the  scarified 


6C3APLNG  TUKPENTINE. 

surface  of  the  tree  is  scraped  down  with  an  iron 
instrument  into  a  sort  of  hod,  and  is  sold  at  an 
inferior  price.  Every  year  the  process  of  scari- 
fying is  carried  two  or  three  feet  higher  up  the 
trunk,  until  it  reaches  the  height  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  feet — as  high  as  a  man  can  conveniently 
reach  with  his  long-handled  cutter.  When  this 
ceases  to  yield,  the  same  process  is  commenced 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  trunk.  An  average 
yield  is  about  twenty-five  barrels  of  turpentine 
from  a  thousand  trees,  and  it  is  estimated  that 
one  man  will  dip  ten  thousand  boxes. 

The  produce  is  carried  to  market  on  a  sort 
of  dray  or  cart  which  holds  but  two  barrels, 
consequently  the  barrels  are  always  seen  setting 
about  in  the  woods  in  couples.  The  trees  at 
length  die  under  these  repeated  operations. 
They  are  then  felled,  split  into  small  sticks, 
and  burned  for  tar.  The  dead  trees  are  pre- 
ferred for  this  purpose,  because  when  life  ceases 
the  resinous  matter  concentrates  in  the  interior 
layers  of  the  wood.  In  building  a  tar-kiln  a 
small  circular  mound  of  earth  is  first  raised, 
declining  from  the  circumference  to  the  centre, 
where  a  cavity  is  formed,  communicating  by  a 
conduit  with  a  shallow  ditch  surrounding  the 


746 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


mound.  Upon  this  foundation  the  split  sticks 
are  stacked  to  the  height  of  ten  or  twelve 
feet. 

The  stack  is  then  covered  with  earth  as  in 
making  charcoal,  and  the  fire  applied  through 
an  opening  in  the  top.  As  this  continues  to 
burn  with  a  smouldering  heat,  the  wood  is 
charred,  and  the  tar  flows  into  the  cavity  in 
the  centre,  and  thence  by  the  conduit  into  the 
ditch,  or  into  vessels  sunk  to  receive  it. 

In  a  country  endowed  by  nature  with  such 
unlimited  plantations,  yielding  their  valuable 
products  for  so  small  an  amount  of  labor,  one 
might  expect  to  see  some  signs  of  wealth  and 
prosperity ;  yet  here  all  appearances  seem  to  in- 
dicate the  reverse.  Human  habitations  are  few 
and  far  between ;  and  when  found,  are  but  little 
better  in  appearance  than  the  huts  of  our  West- 
ern borderers.  An  accurate  observer,  however, 
may  see  about  the  dwellings  in  the  Piny  Woods 
many  little  peculiarities  indicative  of  an  older 
civilization.  They  almost  always  have  fruit 
trees  about  them,  and  a  trellis  supporting  an  ex- 
tensive scuppernong  grape-vine.  There  are  be- 
sides four  characteristic  indispensables  to  every 
cottage :  a  well-sweep  with  a  cypress-knee 
bucket,  in  shape  and  size  like  a  slouched  hat ; 
a  group  of  slim  fodder-stacks,  made  of  corn- 
blades  tied  to  high  stakes ;  three  sweet  potato 
hills,  carefully  protected,  and  a  tall  pole  hung 
with  empty  gourds  to  entertain  the  martins. 
This  unfailing  care  to  provide  for  the  comfort 
of  these  social  chattering  little  sojourners  im- 
presses the  stranger  favorably  in  regard  to  the 
inhabitants  of  this  region,  and  if  circumstances 


should  throw  him  upon  their  simple  hospitality 
he  will  not  be  disappointed. 

After  traveling  some  twelve  miles  by  the  coach 
Crayon  resolved  to  see  more  of  the  country  than 
could  conveniently  be  viewed  from  his  seat  beside 
the  driver;  consequently  he  shouldered  his  knap- 
sack and  thenceforth  pursued  his  journey  on  foot. 
Turning  from  the  main  road  into  the  first  by- 
path that  presented  itself,  he  was  soon  wander- 
ing ad  libitum  among  the  turpentine-trees.  It 
is  impossible  to  resist  the  feeling  of  loneliness 
that  creeps  over  one  on  entering  these  silent 
forests,  or  to  repress  a  sentiment  of  superstitious 
dread  as  you  glance  through  the  sombre  many- 
columned  aisles,  stretching  away  on  even'  side 
in  interminable  perspective.  Where  the  trees 
have  been  recently  blazed,  the  square-cut  mark- 
ings, white  on  the  black  trunks,  strikingly  re- 
semble marble  grave-stones,  and  the  traveler  may 
imagine  himself  in  a  vast  cemeterj-.  In  the  old- 
er workings,  if  he  should  pass  near  the  hour  of 
twilight,  he  may  see  misty  white,  horned  ghosts, 
starting  and  staring  from  every  tree — silence  and 
monotony,  like  two  evil  spirits  following  every 
where,  suggesting  uncouth  and  dreary  fancies. 

Our  hero  at  length  came  to  an  old  milldam, 
grown  up  with  cypresses,  presenting  altogether 
so  unique  a  picture  that  he  tamed  to  sketch  it. 
His  drawing  was  nearly  completed  when  he  re- 
marked the  slanting  rays  of  the  sun  upon  the 
trees,  and  not  without  some  feeling  of  uneasiness 
he  hastily  put  up  his  work  and  resumed  his  jour- 
ney. He  had  not  walked  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  mile,  however,  before  he  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  a  clump  of  gourds  towering  over  the  trees. 


TINY    WOOl'S   COTTAlifc. 


NOKTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


747 


The  hoase  which  our  hero  approached  had  a 
lonely,  dilapidated  look,  and  even  the  gourds 
on  the  martin  pole  appeared  to  be  tenantless. 

His  doubt  as  to  whether  the  place  was  in- 
habited was  soon  resolved  by  the  appearance  of 
a  small  man,  who  rushed  from  the  front  door 
pursued  by  a  tall  virago  with  a  broomstick  in  her 
hand.  The  high-toned  clatter  of  the  woman's 
tongue  and  the  rapid  thwacks  of  the  stick,  with 
which  she  belabored  him  over  the  head  and 
shoulders,  completely  drowned  the  man's  voice 
in  any  prayers  or  remonstrances  he  might  have 
attempted.  His  principal  defense,  therefore, 
was  confined  to  dodging,  at  which  he  seemed 
well  practiced. 

Porte  Crayon,  being  naturally  of  a  chivalrous 
temper,  was'on  the  point  of  rushing  forward  to 
espouse  the  cause  of  the  weaker  party,  but  in 
consideration  of  the  general  impropriety  of  min- 


gling in  domestic  feuds,  and  the  particular  man- 
ner in  which  the  woman  handled  the  broom- 
stick, he  restrained  the  generous  impulse,  and 
withdrawing  himself  from  sight  behind  a  tree, 
remained  a  quiet  spectator  of  the  scene.  As  the 
couple  made  the  circuit  of  the  inclosure  in  front 
of  the  house  he  was  also  enabled  to  understand 
the  cause  of  the  difficulty. 

It  seemed  that  the  man  having  got  through 
the  proceeds  of  the  last  sale  of  turpentine,  in- 
stead of  gathering  more,  as  he  was  ordered,  had 
robbed  two  of  madam's  sitting  hens  and  sold 
the  eggs,  the  proceeds  whereof  he  had  invested 
in  whisky.  This  last  charge  was  denied  at 
first,  and  only  admitted  when  a  second  tour  of 
the  yard  was  nearly  completed.  The  broom- 
stick was  then  discontinued,  and  the  Amazon  re- 
tired into  the  house,  whence  issued  at  intervals 
a  smothered  blast  from  her  vet  unsatisfied  tongue. 


748 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


The  little  man,  with  a  dejected  countenance, 
seated  himself  upon  a  lame  wood-horse,  ap- 
pearing upon  the  whole,  however,  as  if  he  was 
rather  pleased  that  it  was  all  over.  Just  then 
a  solitary  martin  perched  himself  upon  the  pole, 
and  after  some  consideration  entered  one  of  the 
gourds.  A  moment  after  there  was  a  furious 
chattering  that  might  have  been  heard  a  hun- 
dred yards  oft',  and  the  gourd  began  to  swing  to 
and  fro.  At  length  two  birds,  with  a  cloud  of 
dried  twigs  and  feathers,  tumbled  out  of  the 
opening  and  fell  fluttering  to  the  ground.  So 
fierce  was  the  combat  that  they  had  nearly  fallen 
a  prey  to  a  hungry-looking  gray  cat  that  was 
watching  near.  At  this  the  little  man  began 
to  laugh,  'when  the  woman  reappeared  at  the 
door,  and,  in  a  loud  voice,  ordered  him  to  go  to 
his  work.  Without  looking  up  he  rose,  and  en- 
tering a  log  building  hard  by  that  looked  like  a 
turkey  pen,  he  commenced  pegging  away  mer- 
rily at  a  pair  of  shoes. 

Erom  motives  of  delicacy  Porte  Crayon  did 
not  wisli  to  remain  longer  a  witness  to  these 
family  differences,  and  as  soon  as  he  could  do 
so  unperceived,  made  his  escape.  But  where 
was  he  to  go?  That  was  a  serious  question. 
What  he  had  just  seen  was  rather  calculated 
to  mar  the  prospect  of  a  night's  repose.  But 
Crayon  was  an  old  stager.  "  A  calm,"  said  he, 
•'generally  succeeds  a  storm;  I  will  return  to 
the  old  milldam,  finish  my  drawing,  and  then 
come  back  to  claim  their  hospitality.  In  the 
course  of  half  an  hour  the  clouds  will  have  rolled 
away."  Carrying  out  the  resolve,  he  returned 
to  the  gate  a  second  time  just  as  the  sun  was 
setting.  No  sooner  had  the  proprietor  laid  ej'es 
on  him  than  he  threw  down  his  lap-stone  and 
hurried  to  meet  him,  with  a  countenance  beam- 
ing with  delight. 

Scarcely  allowing  the  traveler  time  to  tell  his 
needs,  he  overwhelmed  him  with  proffers  of  hos- 
pitality. Pleased  with  the  free  cordiality  of  this 
welcome,   our  hero  still  entertained  some  un- 


happy forebodings,  which  the  next  moment  suf- 
ficiently justified.  The  heroine  of  the  broom- 
stick, armed  this  time  with  a  large  wooden  spoon, 
and  wearing  an  awful  scowl  on  her  countenance, 
came  forward. 

"No  man  can't  stay  here  to-night,"  said  she, 
in  a  voice  that  rang  like  the  shriek  of  a  Pytho- 
ness. "  You  nasty,  good-for-nothing,  sneaking 
creeter,  have  you  the  drotted  impudence  to  ask  a 
stranger  to  stay  in  your  house  when  your  own 
family  is  starving  ?  You  hain't  had  a  mouthful 
of  meat  for  a  week.  Let  the  man  go  to  Squire 
Smith's,  where  he  can  get  something  to  eat." 

Crayon  hesitated,  and  then  humbly  taking  off 
his  cap,  inquired  how  far  it  was  to  Squire  Smith's. 
"It  don't  make  any  difference  how  far  it  is, 
you  can't  stay  here." 

"For  God's  sake,  stranger,  don't  go,"  whis- 
pered the  cobbler.  "It's  good  five  mile,  and 
you'll  git  lost  in  the  swamp  sure  as  you're  born." 
Crayon  winked  at  the  cobbler. 
"Madam,"  said  he,  respectfully,  "  if  I  am  to 
go  on,  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  a 
drink  of  water?" 

"Water's  plenty,  at  least  sich  as  it  is,"  said 
she,  pointing  to  the  bucket  in  which  floated  a 
gourd.  Crayon  crossed  the  threshold,  helped 
himself  to  a  drink,  and  then  took  his  seat  on  a 
three-legged  stool.  The  matron  cast  a  furious 
look  at  him,  and  with  three  consecutive  kicks 
sent  as  many  dogs  howling  out  of  the  cabin. 

Our  hero  rose — "Madam,  I  am  a  stranger  in 
this  country,  and  don't  know  the  paths.  It  is  now 
nearly  dark,  and  I  expect  to  lose  myself  in  the 
swamp ;  but  rather  than  put  a  lady  to  any  in- 
convenience, I  will  even  run  that  risk.  I  bid 
you  good-evening." 

Here  he  offered  his  hand,  which  was  rather 
reluctantly  accepted,  and,  on  withdrawing  it, 
managed  to  leave  half  a  dollar  sticking  to  the 
lady's  palm.  The  cobbler,  Avho  had  stood  aloof 
during  this  scene,  now  ventured  to  put  in  a 
propitiatory  word. 

"Perhaps,"  said  he,  "if  the 
gentleman  must  go,  I  might  go 
with  him  as  far  as  the  Squire's." 

"Go  mend  them  shoes,  you 
mean,  sneaking  brute.  Didn't 
you  promise  'em  for  to-morrow 
morning  —  you  sorry  onreliable 
pretense  of  a  man?  If  the  gen- 
tleman can't  go  without  you  to 
show  him  the  way  he  had  better 
stay,  that's  all ;  and  if  he  can 
make  up  his  mind  to  put  up  with 
our  poor  entertainment,  I  reckon 
it's  rather  late  for  him  to  go,  any- 
how." 

During  this  speech  Crayon  un- 
slung  his  knapsack,  hung  it  on  the 
bed-post,  and  made  himself  gen- 
erally at  home.  Several  cotton- 
headed  urchins  had  now  gathered 
in,  and  stood  staring  at  the  new- 
comer with  all  their  eyes.  Attract- 
ed to  the  door  by  the  sound  of 


iS§\ 


,r 


V 


-  -  ■:-- 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


749 


horses'  hoofs,  our  hero  next  saw 
a  strapping  girl,  about  sixteen, 
astride  of  a  gray  pony  without 
saddle  or  bridle,  driving  up  a 
couple  of  cows.  A  profusion  of 
coal-black  hair  hung  in  elf  locks 
about  her  neck  and  face,  and 
her  great  black  eyes  danced 
like  a  rabbit's.  In  fact,  she  was 
pretty — a  softened  image  of  her 
mother  without  the  broomstick. 

"Sal!  Sal!  you  abominable 
hussy,  git  off  that  hoss.  Don't 
you  see  the  strange  gentleman  ?" 

Sal's  countenance  fell ;  she 
bounced  from  her  seat,  stuck 
her  finger  in  her  mouth,  and, 
by  a  circuitouS  path,  gained  the 
back  part  of  the  house. 

Presently  Crayon  observed 
the  cobbler  very  earnestly  mak- 
ing signs  to  him  from  his  work- 
shop ;  he  accordingly  entered, 
and  took  a  seat  opposite  him  on 
a  roll  of  sole  leather. 

"I  am  mighty  glad,  Sir,  you've  made  up  your 
mind  to  pass  the  night  with  us.  It  goes  agin 
me  to  see  a  stranger  turn  from  my  door;  but 
Lord  bless  you,  Sir,  you  know  women  —  they 
will  talk."  Here  the  speaker  gave  Mr.  Crayon 
a  facetious  and  significant  wink.  "  P'r'aps 
there's  no  meat,  but  I'm  goin'  to  town  to-mor- 
row to  lay  in  a  supply.  The  fact  is,  I'm  'mazin' 
fond  of  talkin'  when  I  meet  a  friendly,  sociable 
gentleman.  I  should  judge  you've  been  round 
some ;  'pears  you  know  a  thing  or  two.  So  do 
I.  I've  been  in  pretty  nigh  every  State  in  this 
Union.  I  traveled  round  when  I  was  a  jour' ; 
then  I  served  in  the  army  a  while.  I  was  with 
the  volunteers  in  Mexico.  I  was  in  all  them 
battles,  and  entered  the  city  of  Mexico  with 
General  Taylor." 

"  Scott,  you  mean,"  suggested  Crayon. 

"  Scott  it  was.  Sence  Taylor  was  'lected 
President  I  got  'em  mixed.  And  so,  afterward, 
I  fou't  at  Buena  Vista  under  Scott  or  Taylor, 
one  or  t'other,  but  I  disremember  which.  I 
never  was  any  great  scollard,  but  I've  smelt 
powder  in  my  time." 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  said  Crayon,  dryly. 

Just  then  there  was  a  blast  from  the  house — 
a  demand  if  he  "was  finishing  them  shoes," 
preluded  by  the  ordinary  string  of  epithets. 
Whack  !  whack !  whack  !  went  the  hammer, 
spasmodically. 

"Never  mind — pretty  nigh  done !"  he  cried. 
Then  repeating  his  facetious  wink,  he  contin- 
ued, in  a  lower  tone,  "You  know  women,  Sir. 
Pshaw  !  I  never  mind  'em ;  they  will  talk,  and 
to  stop  'em  is  onpossible.  But  I  do  like  to  talk 
myself  with  a  sociable,  friendly  man,  when  I 
get  a  chance.  But  when  I  was  with  the  army — 
we  was  then  before  Rackinsack  la  Palma — the 
Colonel  says  to  me,  says  he,  '  Squibs,  I've  got 
great  reliance  on  you,  and  there's  a  certain 
[lung  I  want  to  have   done — '      But  maybe, 


stranger,  this  here's  gittin'  dry.  Wait  a  min- 
ute." 

Having  reconnoitred  the  house,  he  slyly  took 
out  a  pint  bottle  which  had  been  deftly  hidden  in 
the  leg  of  an  old  boot,  and,  drawing  the  corn- 
cob stopper,  handed  the  liquor  to  his  guest.  He 
merely  wet  his  mustaches,  and  returned  it. 

"Here's  luck!"  said  the  cobbler,  as  he  threw 
his  head  back,  half  closed  his  eyes,  and  stuck 
the  bottle  neck  into  his  mouth.  With  a  spas- 
modic jerk  he  suddenly  withdrew  it ;  his  eyes 
stared  horribly,  the  whisky  gurgled  in  his  throat 
and  trickled  from  the  corners  of  his  mouth. 
The  hand  of  the  Amazon  reached  in  and  took 
the  bottle.  Crayon  expected  to  hear  it  crash 
against  the  house,  but  he  only  heard  a  string 
of  some  ten  or  fifteen  disrespectful  adjectives, 
followed  by  the  noun  "Hog."  The  presence 
of  the  stranger  probably  prevented  any  overt 
breach  of  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  house- 
hold. As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  Squibs  made 
a  ghastly  effort  at  a  wink. 

"Hang  the  woman,  she's  got  it!  Mister, 
you  should  have  kept  a  better  look-out,  and  give 
me  warnin'.  Not  that  I  mind  her- — pshaw!  I 
don't  care  that ;  but  she  has  a  prejudice  against 
licker,  as  if  what  little  I  drink  would  hurt  a 
man.  But  we  don't  care.  They  must  have 
their  say,  or  they'll  bust." 

"Dad,  come  to  supper,"  said  a  cottcn-head- 
ed  boy. 

The  supper  of  corn  bread,  sweet  potatoes, 
and  yeopou  tea  was  enlivened  by  a  continuous 
stream  of  animadversion  upon  the  character 
and  conduct  of  the  master  of  the  house,  setting 
forth  his  nastiness,  meanness,  good-for-no- 
thingness,  and  other  similar  qualities,  in  the 
clearest  light.  His  wife,  who  had  been  de- 
ceived into  marriage  under  the  impression  that 
he  was  an  industrious,  thriving  person,  had 
been   cruelly   awakened  from   her   dream  of 


750 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


felicity  to  find  herself  an  abused,  starved,  and 
barefooted  mother  of  five  barefooted  children. 
He  would  neither  mend  shoes  for  the  neighbors 
nor  for  his  own  family.  He  would  scrape  a 
couple  of  barrels  of  turpentine  now  and  then, 
carry  them  to  town,  waste  half  the  proceeds  be- 
fore he  got  back  home  with  his  scanty  supply 
of  meat  and  groceries.  As  long  as  these  lasted 
he  would  never  lift  a  hand  to  any  thing. 

The  only  defense  made  by  Squibs  was  con- 
fined to  a  few  miserable  winks  at  his  guest. 
He  at  length  ventured  to  remark  that  turpen- 
tine was  veiy  low  now- — scarcely  worth  scraping. 

"  Low ! "  said  she,  with  flashing  eyes.  "  Low ! 
What's  the  price  of  eggs  ?" 

After  the  bursting  of  this  shell  there  was 
comparative  quiet.  The  ample  chimney  blazed 
with  pine-knots.  Pallets  were  laid  in  a  dark 
corner  for  Sal  and  the  children ;  another  was 
placed  in  front  of  the  fire  for  the  stranger,  to 
which,  minus  his  coat  and  boots,  he  speedily 
retired.  The  elders  sat  quietly  in  the  chimney 
corner  smoking  their  pipes.  The  pine-knots 
threw  a  cheerful  light  over  the  room,  and  a 
cricket  ventured  from  beneath  the  hearth-stone, 
and  tuned  his  tiny  pipe  for  a  song. 

Squibs  at  length  took  up  one  of  the  trav- 
eler's boots,  and  studying  it  with  the  air  of  a 
connoisseur,  remarked,  "This  here  is  a  city- 
made  boot." 

The  matron  gave  a  contemptuous  recognition 
of  the  remark ;  and  then  glancing  at  the  article 
in  question,  observed,  "  Them  boots  is  too  long 
for  the  gentleman"  (pointing  with  her  pipe  to 
a  wrinkle  in  the  leather)  ;  "his  big  toe  only 
comes  to  thar." 

"No,"  said  the  cobbler,  "you're  mistaken, 
mammy.     His  toe  comes  to  this  pint." 

"No  sich  thing,"  replied  she,  positively; 
"for  it's  plain  to  see  whar  the  eend  of  his  toe 
humps  up  the  leather." 

Strong  in  the  consciousness  of  truth  and  pro- 
fessional knowledge,  the  cobbler  sustained  his 
point.  "Why,  dad  bum  me,  woman,  have  I 
made  shoes  for  twenty  years  not  to  know  where 
a  man's  foot  comes  to  in  his  boot?" 

The  matron  seized  an  iron-shod  poker,  and 
sent  forty  thousand  sparks  roaring  up  the  chim- 
ney. ' '  And  a  mighty  deal  of  good  it  has  done 
your  family,  hasn't  it  ?  But  come,  I'll  leave  it 
to  the  gentleman  himself  if  I  ain't  right." 

Thus  appealed  to,  Crayon  rose  on  his  elbow, 
feigned  to  examine  the  boot,  and  unhesitatingly 
decided  in  favor  of  the  lady. 

"There,  now — didn't  I  know  it!  A  pretty 
shoemr.ker  you  are,  to  be  sure  !  —an  ignorant, 
lazy  vermin !" 

Squibs  winked,  and  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "I 
used  to  think  once  that  I  knowed  something 
about  a  boot,"  he  faintly  persisted. 

' '  And  you've  at  last  found  out  you  know  no- 
thing," said  she.    ., 

"The  last  tag  is  pizen,"  rejoined  he,  wink- 
ing. 

Her  concluding  snarl  was  lost  as  they  retired 
to  the  bed  in  the  far  corner.     The  cricket  began 


to  sing  again ;  and  Sleep  spread  his  peaceful 
mantle  over  the  troubled  world. 

Crayon  arose  next  morning  refreshed  and 
strengthened.  As  he  took  leave  of  the  family 
his  host  proposed  to  accompany  him  for  a  short 
distance  to  put  him  in  the  right  road  to  Wash- 
ington. When  they  were  about  to  separate, 
the  traveler  thanked  him  for  his  kind  entertain- 
ment, and  delicately  offered  pecuniary  remu- 
neration. This  the  little  shoemaker  nobly  de- 
clined. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "I'm  always  proud  to  see  a 
gentleman  at  my  house,  and  always  give  him 
the  best  I've  got ;  and  I  do  love  a  good  talk." 

"But,  my  friend,"  said  Crayon,  offering  a 
dollar,  "I  must  insist  that  you  take  some- 
thing." 

"  Stranger,  it  makes  me  feel  bad  to  have 
money  forced  on  me  this  way."  Crayon 
dropped  his  hand.  "But,"  continued  his 
host,  "if  you  should  force  a  trifle  on  me  for 
the  women  thar,  I  couldn't  be  so  uncivil  as  to 
refuse." 

The  dollar  was  transferred.  Squibs  eyed 
the  coin  with  satisfaction,  and  then  cast  a  fore- 
boding glance  toward  the  house.  "  Sir,"  said 
he,  "couldn't  you  change  this  gold  dollar  into 
two  halves  for  me  ?" 

The  request  was  complied  with,  and  they 
parted  ;  our  traveler  taking  the  road  to  Wash- 
ington. 

Washington,  the  county  town  of  Beaufort,  is 
situated  on  the  head  of  the  Pamlico  Sound,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Tar  River.  It  is  a  flourishing 
place  of  four  thousand  inhabitants,  and  drives  a 
smart  trade  in  the  staples  of  the  State  —  tur- 
pentine, cotton,  and  lumber.  It  has  several 
extensive  establishments  for  sawing  and  plan- 
ing lumber,  and  for  converting  the  brute  tur- 
pentine into  its  various  derivatives.  An  ex- 
terior view  of  the  town  presents  nothing  but  a 
few  steeples,  peering  out  from  a  thick  grove  of 
trees,  and  the  street  views  only  continuous 
archways  of  verdure.  In  fact,  its  modest 
white  wooden  houses  are  completely  buried  in 
trees  ;  and  when  the  weather  is  hot  the  effect 
is  highly  pleasing.  The  only  sketchable  object 
here  is  a  private  residence,  at  the  end  of  the 
main  street,  with  beautifully-improved  grounds; 
and  at  the  principal  hotel,  the  only  item  de- 
serving particular  commendation  was  John,  the 
head  servant.     Pope  says, 

"  Honor  and  fame  from  no  condition  rise  ; 
Act  well  your  part — there  all  the  honor  lies." 

By  this  rule,  John  should  have  both  fame  and 
honor. 

Next  morning  early,  our  traveler  embarked 
in  the  steamer  Governor  Morefiead,  a  small 
boat,  of  rather  queer  build,  which  navigates 
the  Tar  River  to  Greenville,  twenty-five  miles 
distant.  There  were  but  seven  or  eight  passen- 
gers on  board.  The  morning  was  delightful, 
and  Captain  Quinn  gave  Crayon  a  breakfast 
that  seems  to  have  won  his  heart  completely. 
In  fact,  he  never  alludes  to  it  without  compli- 
menting the  Captain  in  the  warmest  terms. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


751 


EESIDENCE   CP   J.    G2IST,    liSQ. 


The  Tar  River,  as  far  as  they  traveled,  pre- 
sented the  dark-colored  water,  and  low,  swampy- 
shores  common  to  all  the  streams  in  the  lower 
country.  But  few  traces  of  improvement  or 
population  were  visible  in  passing,  and  the  evi- 
dences of  trade  were  confined  to  a  few  flats 
loaded  with  lumber  and  cotton,  and  propelled 
with  poles.  The  river  is  narrow,  crooked, 
shoaly,  and  only  navigable  for  flat-bottomed 
boats. 

At  Greenville  our  traveler  again  took  to  the 
road,  on  foot.  In  its  general  features  this  coun- 
try resembles  that  over  which  Crayon  had 
passed.  There  are  the  same  interminable  pine 
forests,  boxed  and  scarified  by  the  turpentine- 
gatherers,  with  the  barrels  standing  about  in 
couples  among  the  trees,  and  frequent  tar-kilns 
in  process  of  erection,  or  smoking  and  smoulder- 
ing toward  completion. 

As  you  approach  the  line  of  railroad,  running 
from  Weldon  to  Wilmington,  across  this  portion 
of  the  State,  signs  of  life  and  improvement  be- 
gin to  be  manifest.  The  groups  of  fodder-stacks 
about  the  barns  are  larger,  the  old  dwellings  are 
in  better  repair,  there  are  many  new  ones  of  a 
more  modern  and  more  pleasing  style  of  archi- 
tecture, and  one  more  frequently  meets  the  na- 
tive going  to  or  from  market,  on  his  two-bar- 
reled cart,  drawn  by  the  long-tailed,  shoeless 
horse. 

Having  arrived  at  a  village  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  our  hero  determined  to  tarry 
for  the  night.  As  he  lounged  upon  the  tavern 
porch  his  curiosity  was  excited  by  seeing  a 
crowd  of  shabby-looking  white  men  and  negroes 
collected  in  an  open  space  behind  the  stable. 
He  presently  joined  them,  and  soon  perceived 
there  was  a  cock-fight  on  the  tapis.     Two  of 


the  negroes,  who  carried  meal-bags,  had  just 
liberated  a  pair  of  cocks  therefrom,  which  they 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  two  gentlemen  who 
were  to  play  a  principal  part  in  the  affair. 
Number  One  of  the  parties  was  remarkable  for 
his  bad  clothes  and  an  indomitable  shock  of  car- 
roty hair.  His  appearance  was  rather  improved 
by  taking  off  his  coat,  which  he  did  preparatory 
to  handling  his  fowl.  This  was  a  large  spangle 
— a  noisy,  robustious  fellow,  whom  it  took  two 
to  hold  while  the  trimming  was  going  on. 

His  proposed  antagonist,  a  keen-looking  black, 
on  the  contrary,  sat  perfectly  quiet  upon  the 
hand  of  a  sallow,  long-nosed  covey  with  sleek 
black  hair,  and  rather  flashily  dressed  in  a 
green  coat  with  brass  buttons.  As  there  is  an 
absurd  prejudice  existing  at  the  present  day 
against  this  elegant  sport,  it  is  more  than  prob- 
able that  many  are  ignorant  of  the  manner  of 
conducting  it.  "VVe  may  be  pardoned,  therefore, 
for  entering  somewhat  into  detail  in  describing 
the  preliminaries.  The  cocks  are  generally 
matched  by  weight.  This  being  ascertained, 
the  pitter  takes  him  in  hand,  and  with  a  pair  of 
shears  trims  all  the  superfluous  feathers  from 
his  neck,  tail,  and  back,  thereby  rendering  him 
lighter  and  more  active,  but  effectually  destroy- 
ing his  beauty.  The  spurs  are  sawed  off  near 
the  leg,  and  upon  the  stumps  a  pair  of  sharp- 
pointed  steel  gaffs,  about  three  inches  long,  are 
carefully  tied.  To  dispose  these  artificial  spurs 
so  as  more  surely  to  strike  the  adversary  and 
to  prevent  self-inflicted  wounds,  is  one  of  the 
delicacies  of  the  art  only  to  be  acquired  by  long 
practice  and  profound  study.  It  was  delightful 
to  see  the  air  of  professional  gravity  with  which 
these  worthies  went  through  the  business  of 
trimming  and  heeling,  and  the  respectful  ad- 


752 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


miration  elicited  by  their  skill  from  the  assist- 
ant by-standers,  including  negroes. 

All  preliminaries  having  been  satisfactorily 
adjusted,  Green-coat  called  upon  the  specta- 
tors to  set  their  bets.  This  was  accordingly 
done,  the  amounts  ranging  from  a  dime  to  a 
quarter,  although  several  desperate  characters 
went  as  high  as  a  dollar. 

The  pitters  entered  a  circle  formed  of  plank 
staked  up,  the  spectators  ranged  themselves 
around  outside.  The  cocks  were  held  up  to- 
gether, to  see  if  they  were  ready  for  the  com- 
bat;  they  answered,  "Ready!"  by  pecking 
fiercely  at  each  other's  eyes.  The  seconds  then 
retired  to  opposite  limits  of  the  circle,  and  set 
their  principals  upon  the  ground.  These  strut- 
ted about  for  a  moment ;  eying  each  other  as- 
kance, and  then,  flapping  their  wings,  poured 
forth  clarion  notes  of  mutual  defiance.  This 
was  the  signal  for  the  onset ;  they  advanced, 


squared  themselves,  and  incontinently  pitched 
into  each  other.  For  a  moment  they  struck  rap- 
idly, hitting  and  dodging  like  practiced  boxers; 
but  becoming  entangled,  they  presently  tumbled 
over  together,  the  black  above.  "  Hung!"  ex- 
claimed Woodpecker ;  "handle 'em."  "Stand 
back!"  shouted  Green-coat,  "he's  in  the  feath- 
ers." "You're  inmy  wing,"  persisted  Woodpeck- 
er, attempting  to  seize  the  combatants.  He  was 
resolutely  grappled  by  Green-coat;  while  the 
black,  taking  advantage  of  the  delay,  was  endeav- 
oring to  pick  the  spangle's  eyes  out.  The  excite- 
ment at  this  moment  was  so  intense  that  a  hatless 
lackey,  who  had  a  quarter  on  the  spangle,  broke 
into  the  ring.  He  was  jerked  out  in  a  trice,  and 
order  restored.  The  combatants  were  separated, 
and  it  was  discovered  that  no  damage  had  been 
done  ;  but  blood  was  rising,  and  before  pitting  a 
second  time,  Woodpecker  nodded  fiercely  across 
the  ring  to  his  opponent,  and  said,  in  a  voice 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


753 


husky  with  suppressed  passion,  "  I'll  go  ye  an- 
other dollar !" 

"Done!" 

There  was  no  preliminary  strutting  this  time. 
As  soon  as  they  touched  the  ground  the  eager 
duelists  rushed  to  the  combat.  After  some 
smart  rapping  without  apparent  result,  the  cocks 
seemed  to  be  getting  a  little  blown.  The  span- 
file  got  his  head  under  the  black's  wing,  and 
they  both  stood  panting  for  some  minutes  in  this 
position.  The  spangle  appeared  to  be  seriously 
revolving  something  in  his  mind,  and  it  was 
perceived  that  blood  was  dripping  from  his  neck. 
At  the  third  round  the  result  of  the  spangle's 
Vol.  XIV.—  No  84.— 3  B 


cogitations  transpired.  Instead  of  meeting  the 
black's  advance,  he  took  to  his  heels.  The 
black  pursued  him  to  the  barrier,  giving  him  a 
rap  behind  which  helped  him  over,  and  away 
he  went,  pursued  by  half  a  dozen  boys  and  ne- 
groes, with  mingled  shouts  of  derision  and 
merriment.  "  Kill  him  ! "  "  Cut  his  head  off ! " 
"Dunghill!"  "Used  up!"  were  the  expres- 
sions which  followed  the  ignominious  bird.  The 
victor  behaved  much  like  a  gentleman.  Leap- 
ing upon  the  barrier,  he  saw  his  recreant  adver- 
sary in  full  flight.  Disdaining  to  pursue — for 
the  truly  brave  is  never  truculent — he  hopped 
back  into  the  ;  t,  proclaimed  his  victory,  as  it 


754 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


was  his  bounden  duty  to  do,  and 
then  quietly  suffered  himself  to 
be  taken  and  disarmed. 

The  loserswere  eithervitupera- 
tive  or  calmly  philosophic  under 
their  misfortunes,  reasoning  cu- 
riously upon  causes  and  effects. 
The  winners  were  loud  and  un- 
confined  in  their  joy. 

Woodpecker  stood  for  several 
minutes  lost  in  thought,  then  step- 
ping up  to  his  successful  oppo- 
nent, he  drew  out  two  ragged  one- 
dollar  bills  on  the  Bank  of  Cape 
Fear  and  forked  them  over.  Mak- 
ing an  effort  to  swallow  the  lump 
in  his  throat,  he  said, 

"Adam,  I've  been  deceived. 
That  spangle  winned  his  fight  last 
year  at  Gaston,  when  Jones  fit 
Faulcon —  Virginia  agin  North 
Carolina — a  thousand  on  the  odd. 
True,  he  wasn't  cut  nary  time, 
and  so  I  gin  two  dollars  for  him 
arterward,  and  kep  him  on  a  walk 
ever  sence ;  but  I'll  break  every 
darned  egg,  and  kill  every  chick- 
en of  the  breed,  I  will !" 

Jack  the  horse-boy  won  a 
quarter  from  that  old  dogmatical 
despot,  Uncle  Jonas,  the  chief 
waiter  at  the  tavern.  Jack 
screamed  and  turned  somersets 
on  the  straw.  So  elated  was  he 
that  he  forgot  his  condition,  and 
as  Woodpecker  passed,  Jack  hazarded  a  joke. 

"  I  say,  Massa,  dat  rooster  of  yourn  run  like 
first  dip." 

The  defeated  rolled  his  eyes  vengefully  upon 
the  grinning  ebony.  "Look'ee  here,  boy,  I've 
ben  deceived  in  that  'are  chicken.  '   I've  lost  mv 


TRIMSirNG. 


FP.AL'U   AND    FOKOK. 


fight.     But  I'm  not  a-goin  to  be  made  game  of 
for  all  that,  especially  by  a  nigger." 
Jack  hastily  took  himself  elsewhere. 
We  ventured,  in  a  civil  and  somewhat  covert 
manner,  to  rebuke  Crayon  for  having  assisted  at 
so  cruel  and  disreputable  an  amusement. 

"  I  do  not  see,"  he  replied, 
"why  it  is  considered  more  cruel 
than  angling  or  partridge-shoot- 
ing; and  the  people  one  meets  at 
such  places  are,  in  all  respects,  the 
same  as  those  who,  under  our  ad- 
mirable system,  play  the  most 
prominent  part  in  the  government 
of  the  country.  For  example, 
would  it  not  be  difficult  to  tell 
whether  the  originals  of  this  sketch 
were  the  heroes  of  a  cock-pit  or 
an  election  day?" 

Crayon  arrived  at  Goldsborough 
about  midnight,  and  shortly  after 
1  \  took  the  Central  Railroad  for  Ra- 
leigh, about  fifty  miles  distant.  He 
went  to  sleep  when  the  train  start- 
ed, and  when  he  awoke,  about  sun- 
rise, was  just  entering  the  elegant 
capital  of  North  Carolina.  A  com- 
fortable 'bus  transferred  him  from 
the  depot  to  Guion's  Hotel,  where, 
with  a  little  warm  water  and  an 
alkali,  he  proceeded  to  wash  his 


hands  of  tar,  pitch,  and  turpentine.  We  will  now 
leave  him  to  repose  for  a  short  time  in  the  fa- 
mous City  of  Oaks. 


/r&f. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 

BT   POETE    CKATOK. 
III.— GUILFORD. 

"  List  his  discourse  of  war,  and  you  shall  hear 
A  fearful  battle  rendered  you  in  music." 

Shakspeaee. 

"  rpHE  capitol  of  North  Carolina  bears  the  ap- 
J-  propriate  and  beautiful  name  of  Raleigh, 
in  honor  of  the  accomplished  and  chivalrous  '  Sir 
Walter,  the  man  of  wit  and  the  sword,'  under 
whose  auspices  the  first  colonies  were  planted 
on  our  shores.  The  town  is  comparatively  of 
recent  date,  its  site  having  been  established  by 
a  convention  met  at  Hillsborough  in  1788.  In 
1810,  it  contained  only  six  hundred  and  seven- 
ty inhabitants,  but  its  permanent  population  at 
present  is  estimated  at  between  two  and  three 
thousand.  On  a  commanding  but  gently  slop- 
ing eminence,  the  young  city  sits  embowered,  in 
a  grove  of  stately  oaks,  like  a  rustic  beauty, 
whose  ornaments  are  awkwardly  worn  and  un- 
skillfully  put  on.  Incongruous,  incomplete,  but 
nathless  fair  and  pleasing.  Thus  appear  her 
broad  tree  planted,  unpaved  avenues.  The  su- 
perb and  costly  capitol  with  its  forms  of  Grecian 
elegance,  rising  amidst  a  grove  of  forest  oaks,  in 
an  inclosure  grown  up  with  weeds  and  traversed 
by  narrow  ungraveled  paths,  and  its  stately  en- 
trances encumbered  with  huge  wood  piles. 

"Around  this  central  point  the  town  is  built 
upon  several  streets  densely  shaded  with  double 
rows  of  trees.  The  private  residences  for  die 
most  part  resemble  country  houses,  each  stand- 


ing isolated  in  the  midst  of  its  ornamented 
grounds,  profuse  in  shade-trees,  shrubbery,  and 
flowers,  reminding  one  more  of  a  thickly  settled 
neighborhood  than  a  town.  The  avenue  lead- 
ing from  the  capitol  to  the  Governor's  house  is 
more  compactly  built,  and  is  the  theatre  of  all 
the  commercial  life  the  place  affords. 

"On  an  eminence  near  the  town,  imposing 
from  its  extent  and  position,  stands  the  State 
Asylum  for  the  Insane.  A  building  worthy  the 
taste  and  public  spirit  of  any  State. 

"By  the  burning  of  the  old  capitol  in  183 1 
Raleigh  lost  the  statue  of  Washington  by  Cano- 
va,  a  gem  of  art  of  which  the  Carolinians  were 
justly  proud.  The  hero  was  represented  in  a 
sitting  posture,  costumed  as  a  Roman  general, 
holding  tablets  in  one  hand  and  a  style  in  the 
other,  as  if  about  to  write ;  we  believe  the  in- 
tention of  the  sculptor  was,  to  represent  him  as 
Washington  the  statesman  and  lawgiver,  while 
his  recent  military  character  was  indicated  by 
the  sheathed  sword  beside  him.  The  concep- 
tion was  beautiful,  the  work  skillfully  and  ele- 
gantly wrought,  but  there  was  nothing  in  it  es- 
pecially to  touch  the  American  heart  or  under- 
standing. The  soft  Italian,  whose  genius  was 
inspired  by  dreams  of  the  Greek  ideal  commin- 
gling with  shapes  of  modern  elegance,  who 
pined  even  in  brilliant  Paris  for  the  balmy  air 
and  sunshine  of  his  native  land,  beneath  whose 
magic  chisel  the  frigid  marble  warmed  and 
melted  into  forms  of  voluptuous  beauty,  had 
neither  the  soul  to  conceive  nor  the  hand  to 
carve  the  iron  man  of  '76." 


HOUDON  8    WASHING  TON. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


155 


8TATE   CAPITOL,    EALEIGI1. 


As  Porte  Crayon  warmed  with  his  subject  he 
rose  from  his  chair  and  paced  about  our  writing- 
table  like  a  chained  bear.  "That  task,"  con- 
tinued he,  "yet  remains  to  be  accomplished; 
there  is  no  statue  of  Washington  existing,  there 
never  has  been  one." 

"You  forget  that  which  adorns  the  square  in 
front  of  our  Federal  Capitol,"  I  mildly  sug- 
gested. 

"Get  out!  it  is  scarcely  worth  criticism — a 
pitiful  heathen  divinity  set  up  to  be  scoffed  at 
by  the  children  of  the  image-breakers — a  half 
naked  Olympian  shivering  in  a  climate  where 
nudity  is  not,  and  never  can  be,  respectable." 

"But  there  is  the  statue  in  Richmond." 

Crayon  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  to  cool  off. 

"Houdon,"  said  he,  "made  an  effort  in  the 
proper  direction,  and  the  unaffected  approbation 
which  his  work  has  elicited  proves  it.  That  it 
has  been  greatly  overpraised,  is  not  chargeable 
to  a  want  of  taste  in  our  people,  but  simply  to 
the  fact  that  they  have  no  means  of  comparison. 
It  is  the  best  we  have,  and  is  estimated  accord- 
ingly. But  although  the  costume  and  design 
of  the  statue  are  good,  there  is  nothing  in  that 
affected  pose  to  remind  one  of  the  most  striking 
characteristic  of  Washington's  person, 

1  The  lofty  port,  the  distant  mien, 
That  seemed  to  shun  the  sight,  yet  awed  if  seen.' 

"A  French  writer  says:  '  Malgre  Vopind- 
trete  des  homines  a  louer  Vantique  aux  depens  du 
moderne,  ilfaut  avouer  qu'en  tout  genre  les  pre- 
miers essais  sont  toujour s  grossiers.'  The  truth 
and  common  sense  of  this  assertion  is  applica- 


ble, in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  every  subject 
to  which  human  effort  has  been  directed.  If  it 
seems  not  to  have  been  sustained  by  the  pro- 
gress of  the  fine  arts  at  all  times,  the  exception 
may  be  fairly  referred  to  the  fact,  that  the  ge- 
nius of  certain  peoples  and  periods,  instead  of 
being  devoted  to  the  legitimate  task  of  develop- 
ing into  beauty  and  grandeur  the  ideas  of  its 
own  times,  perversely  turns  for  inspiration  to 
antiquity,  rejecting  the  healthful  freshness  of 
the  present  to  feed  morbidly  on  the  decay  of 
the  past ;  wasting  its  native  vigor  in  feebly  im- 
itating, instead  of  aspiring  to  the  nobler  task  of 
creating.  Why  may  not  the  ridicule  that  in 
literature  is  attached  to  the  faded  imitations 
of  the  ancient  poets — the  Yenuses,  Cupids, 
nymphs,  and  shepherdesses — be  as  fairly  turned 
against  the  wearisome  and  incongruous  repro- 
ductions in  marble  of  gods,  heroes,  and  sena- 
tors, with  modern  names,  and  modern  heads  on 
their  shoulders?" 

"Bravo!  Porte  Crayon  turned  lecturer! 
You  bid  fair  to  rival  Ruskin  in  the  crusade 
against  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  You  and  he 
are  harder  on  them  than  were  the  Goths  and 
Vandals." 

"But,  my  dear  P ,  permit  me  to  explain. 

You  have  misunderstood  the  drift  of  my  re- 
marks— " 

"  Encore,  Sir  Critic.  You  administer  the 
chibouk  like  a  very  Fahladeen." 

"  Now  pray  be  quiet,  and  I'll  tell  you  an  an- 
ecdote appropriate  to  the  subject: 

"A  provincial  society  of  literati,  somewhere 
in  France,  wished  to  compliment  Voltaire,  and 


156 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


NORTH   CAROLINA   ASYLUM   FOR  THE   INSANE. 


voted  that  his  statue  should  decorate  their  hall. 
A  young  artist  of  great  merit,  a  native  of  the 
province,  was  commissioned  to  execute  the  work. 
The  sage,  who  was  never  averse  to  flattery  in 
any  shape,  complacently  sat  for  the  bust,  and  an 


TILE    ARTIST. 


excellent  likeness  was  modeled.  The  artist  was 
now  at  a  loss  how  to  complete  his  work.  The 
antique/wrore  was  then  at  its  height  in  France, 
and  Hogarth's  caricature  of  a  nobleman  person- 
ating Jupiter,  with  a  big  wig,  ruffled  shirt,  and 
a  thunder-bolt  in  his  hand,  scarcely 
surpassed  in  absurdity  many  of  the  se- 
rious productions  of  that  ridiculous 
era.  The  artist  was  an  honest  fel- 
low, and  was  at  his  wits'  end  in  en- 
deavoring to  reconcile  common  sense 
and  the  spirit  of  the  times.  Embroid- 
ered cuffs,  shirt  ruffles,  and  knee 
breeches,  would  not  do  in  marble  at 
all.  The  wardrobe  of  antiquity  was 
ransacked,  but  nothing  found  to  fit 
Voltaire.  Fortunately  the  severely 
classic  taste  could  dispense  with  all 
costume,  even  the  fig-leaf,  so  our  artist 
modeled  his  figure  after  the  Antinous. 
"But  to  see  that  lean,  leering  face, 
that  preposterous  curled  wig  and  scrag- 
gy neck,  set  upon  a  round,  graceful, 
fully-developed  figure,  was  inadmis- 
sible ;  the  incongruity  was  too  glar- 
ing. The  head,  which  had  been  pro- 
nounced a  perfect  likeness,  could  not 
be  changed,  so  he  went  to  work  again, 
and,  with  much  labor,  reduced  the  fig- 
ure to  the  meagre  standard  of  the  face. 
The  completed  statue  resembled  Vol- 
taire, no  doubt,  but  it  also  looked  like 
a  chimpanzee,  or  the  starved  saint 
done  in  stone  in  the  Museum  at  Flor- 
ence, or  the  wax-work  figure  of  Calvin 
Edson  at  Barnum's — a  sculptured  hor- 
ror, a  marble  joke.  The  society  was 
outraged.  The  statue,  instead  of  be- 
ing inaugurated,  was  kicked  into  a  eel- 


NOETH  CAKOLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


157 


THE   SKETCH. 


lar ;  while  the  unhappy  victim  of  classic  taste 
lost  his  labor  and  reputation  together,  nor  is  it 
likely  that  posterity  will  ever  repair  the  injus- 
tice." 

Having  passed  several  days  very  pleasantly 
looking  at  the  outside  of  things  in  Ealeigh,  our 


FEMALE   EDUCATION. 


traveler  continued  his  journey  westward,  by  the 
North  Carolina  Eailroad.  This  road  traverses 
the  best  portion  of  the  State.  The  face  of  the 
country  is  pleasantly  diversified  with  hill  and 
dale.  The  sombre  vesture  of  the  pine  woods  is 
changed  for  the  rich  and  varied  leafing  of  the 
upland  forest,  while  evidences 
of  agricultural  improvement  are 
manifest  on  every  side.  Then, 
as  we  pass  along,  we  hear  the  old 
familiar  names  of  Eevolutionary 
memory;  names  that  make  the 
heart  leap  in  recalling  the  wild, 
romantic  details  of  the  South- 
ern war,  all  the  more  thrilling 
that  they  have  escaped  the  var- 
nish of  spiritless  limners,  and 
are  not  heard  in  the  common 
babblings  of  fame.  But  still, 
in  the  humble  cot  and  squirely 
mansion,  the  memory  of  these 
brave  deeds  and  glorious  names 
is  fondly  cherished. 

"  Come  hither,  Curly-pate  ; 
what  paper  was  that  you  showed 
your  mother  just  now  that  de- 
lightedherso,  and  got  your  pock- 
et filled  with  ginger-cakes  ?" 

"That,  Sir,  is  a  picture  of 
Colonel  Washington  chasing 
Tarleton.  Mother  says  I  am  a 
great  genius." 

1 '  Why,  Beverly,  be  quiet.  I 
said  no  such  thing." 

"Indeed,  madam,  this  draw- 
ing is  an  astonishing  produc- 
tion. The  attitudes  of  his  horses 
are  decidedly  classic,  and  seem 
to  have  been  studied  from  the 
Elgin  marbles.  The  boy  will 
doubtless  be  a  great  painter 
some  day." 


158 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


THE   PAETISAN   LEADED. 


"No,  I  won't.  I'll  be  a  soldier,  and  lead  a 
regiment  of  horse  like  Colonel  Lee." 

' '  Get  away,  then  ;  take  your  tin  sword,  and 
make  war  upon  the  mullin  stalks." 

Still  rolling  westward  we  pass  Hillsborough, 
the  county  town  of  Orange,  then  the  Haw  Riv- 
er. At  length  we  approach  Greensborough,  the 
county  town  of  Guilford.  Here  we  must  tarry 
to  visit  the  battle-field,  which  is  but  a  few  miles 
distant. 

The  town  of  Greensborough  contains  about 
two  thousand  inhabitants,  and  is  a  place  of  some 
trade.  Except  two  or  three  private  residences 
and  two  seminaries,  its  buildings,  public  and 


private,  are  poor ;  and,  in  short,  there  is  no- 
thing about  its  exterior  either  to  prepossess  or 
interest  the  passing  traveler.  Its  two  semin- 
aries for  the  education  of  young  ladies  are  said 
to  be  in  a  flourishing  condition.  In  North  Car- 
olina there  are  a  number  of  institutions,  col- 
leges, etc.,  for  the  education  of  ladies,  all  in 
high  repute  and  well  attended.  Indeed  nowlierc 
does  this  important  subject  seem  to  have  received 
more  consideration  than  in  this  State. 

On  arriving  at  Greensborough  our  traveler 
ascertained  that  the  site  of  Martinsville,  the  old 
Guilford  Court  House  of  Revolutionary  tim?s; 
was  five  miles  distant.     As  it  was  too  late  iu 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


159 


the  day  to  set  out  for  a  visit,  he  passed  the 
afternoon  in  sauntering  about  the  village, 
and  the  evening  in  poring  over  ' '  Lee's  Me- 
moirs." At  an  early  hour  next  morning 
he  mounted  a  horse  and  trotted  off  toward 
Martinsville. 

While  our  hero  is  making  his  way  through 
muddy  lanes  toward  this  interesting  locality, 
we  will  compile,  from  the  best  authorities,  a 
sketch  of  one  of  the  most  important  battles 
that  was  fought  during  the  war  of  the  Rev- 
olution. 

The  retreat  of  Greene  across  the  Dan  left 
North  Carolina  virtually  in  the  hands  of  the 
British.  Having  been  unable  to  bring  his 
adversary  to  battle,  Cornwallis  retired  to 
Hillsborough,  from  whence  he  issued  pro- 
clamations to  every  quarter,  calculated  to 
induce  the  Tory  population  to  rise  and  join 
the  royal  standard.  This  was  what  Greene 
most  feared  ;  and  the  possibility  that  these 
efforts  might  prove  successful,  kept  him 
uneasy  amidst  the  safety  and  abundance 
of  his  camp  in  Halifax.  Scarcely  did  he 
allow  the  troops  time  for  repose  after  their 
arduous  retreat,  before  he  detached  a  light  corps, 
under  Pickens  and  Lee,  across  the  Dan,  to  hang 
on  the  skirts  of  the  enemy,  and,  if  possible,  to 
repress  any  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  loyalists 
to  embody.  The  terrible  fate  of  Pyle  and  his 
followers  seemed  effectually  to  have  accom- 
plished this  result ;  yet,  so  anxious  was  the 
American  commander  on  the  subject,  that  he 
would  not  wait  for  his  expected  reinforcements 
and  munitions,  but  recrossed  the  Dan,  with 
the  main  army,  on  the  23d  of  February. 

This  movement  was  followed  by  a  series  of 
skillful  manceuvres  which  lasted  for  ten  days ; 
the  British  Commander  endeavoring  to  force, 
and  the  American  to  avoid,  a  general  action. 
Greene,  as  usual,  was  successful ;  while  Corn- 
wallis, foiled  and  tired  of  this  unavailing  pur- 
suit, retired  to  a  position  on  Deep  River  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  repose  to  his  wearied  troops. 

In  the  mean  time  the  loyalist  population, 
warned  by  the  slaughter  of  Pyle's  command, 


KATHAMF.l.    GEKENE 


LOED   CORNWALLIS. 

and  awed  by  the  unconquered  attitude  of  the 
American  forces,  preferred  to  remain  quiescent 
until  victory  had  declared  for  one  side  or  the 
other.  The  expected  reinforcements  having  at 
length  arrived,  Greene  determined  to  give  his 
enemy  the  long-sought-for  opportunity  of  battle. 
He  advanced  and,  on  the  14th  of  March,  took 
his  position  at  Guilford  Court  House,  within 
twelve  miles  of  the  enemy.  His  prompt  and 
confident  adversary  accepted  the  challenge  with- 
out hesitation.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the 
fifteenth  he  was  in  motion. 

Tidings  of  his  approach  having  been  convey- 
ed to  the  American  commander  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  he  ordered  his  van  to  arms  and 
to  breakfast  with  all  soldierly  haste,  while  Col- 
onel Lee,  with  his  cavalry,  was  sent  forward  to 
reconnoitre.  Having  advanced  two  or  three 
miles,  this  officer  met  his  scouts  retiring  before 
the  troops  of  Tarleton.  Believing  that  the  main 
body  of  the  British  army  was  at  hand,  Lee  or- 
dered his  column  to  retire  by  troops,  taking  dis- 
tance for  open  evolution.  The  rear  troop  went 
off  at  full  gallop,  followed  by  the  centre.  The 
front  troop,  to  gain  the  open  order  required, 
necessarily  kept  their  horses  at  a  walk.  The 
enemy,  mistaking  the  object  of  this  movement, 
and  supposing  it  the  prelude  to  flight,  made  a 
dash  at  this  troop,  hoping  thereby  to  hasten 
their  pace.  Finding  that  their  advance  was 
unnoticed,  they  fired  their  pistols,  shouted,  and 
pushed  upon  them  a  second  time  until  their 
leading  sections  had  nearly  closed  with  the 
Americans.  Astonished  that  their  noise  and 
bravadoes  had  in  no  way  accelerated  the  pace 
of  the  legionary  horse,  they  drew  up,  not  know- 
ing what  to  make  of  the  sullen  impassiveness  of 
their  enemy.  At  this  moment  Lee  ordered  the 
charge.  The  troop  wheeled  suddenly,  and  their 
pent  up  fury  burst  upon  the  foe  like  a  thunder- 
bolt.    The  columns  met  in  a  lane,  and  the  En- 


160 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


COLONEL  HENEY   LEE. 

glish  were  literally  ridden  down  and  trampled 
under  foot  by  the  powerful  horses  of  the  legion- 
ary troopers.  About  thirty  were  killed,  and  the 
rest  fled  with  all  speed  upon  the  main  body. 
The  bodies  of  the  overthrown  men  and  horses 
so  encumbered  the  lane  that  direct  pursuit  was 
impeded,  and  having  attempted  in  vain  to  over- 
take and  cut  off  the  flying  corps  by  a  circuitous 
route,  Lee  continued  his  retreat,  and  took  the 
position  assigned  him  on  the  left  of  the  Amer- 
ican army. 

Greene's  force  was  posted  on  a  wooded  hill, 
drawn  up  in  three  lines,  the  two  first  composed 
of  militia,  and  the  third  of  his  Continentals,  con- 
sisting of  four  regiments  from  Virginia  and  Ma- 
ryland. 

Colonel  William  Washington's  cavalry,  with 
some  sharp-shooters,  protected  the  right  flank, 
while  Lee's  legion,  with  the  Virginia  riflemen, 
covered  the  left.  Two  pieces  of  artillery  were 
placed  in  the  rear  line  with  the  Continentals, 
while  two  six-pounders  were  so  posted  as  to 
command  the  road  by  which  the  enemy  was 
expected  to  advance.  All  told,  the  American 
force  numbered  four  thousand  five  hundred 
men ;  of  these  about  seventeen  hundred  were 
Continentals,  the  rest  militia.  Their  position 
was  chosen  with  ability,  the  woodland  affording 
every  advantage  to  the  militia  and  riflemen,  who 
were  accustomed  to  that  kind  of  fighting.  They 
had  too,  a  superior  and  effective  cavalry,  and  in 
artillery  were  equal  to  the  enemy.  To  counter- 
balance these  advantages,  however,  it  must  be 
considered  that  militia,  whatever  may  be  their 
numerical  superiority,  have  generally  been  found 
valueless  and  unreliable  when  opposed  to  regu- 
lar troops ;  that  a  large  portion  even  of  the  Con- 


tinentals, were  new  levies,  and  that 
the  whole  army  was  comparatively  ill- 
equipped  and  scantily  provided  with 
ammunition. 

The  British  force  consisted — horse, 
foot,  and  artillery — of  about  two  thou- 
sand men.  But  these  were  all  veteran 
troops,  completely  armed  and  equipped, 
inured  to  war  and  accustomed  to  vic- 
tory. 

Cornwallis  made  his  disposition  for 
the  attack  with  an  audacity  which  no- 
thing but  an  entire  confidence  in  his 
troops  and  his  previous  successes  could 
have  justified.  From  a  letter,  it  ap. 
pears  that  he  supposed  his  adversary 
to  be  about  seven  thousand  strong ; 
and  this  supposed  force,  strongly  post- 
ed, as  he  was  aware,  he  hastens  eagerly 
to  attack  with  but  two  thousand  men, 
as  if  he  had  been  beforehand  assured 
of  victory. 

No  sooner  had  the  British  column 
deployed  and  commenced  marching  to 
the  attack  than  the  militia  forming  the 
left  of  the  front  line  were  seized  with 
a  panic,  and  fled,  before  a  man  of 
them  had  been  either  killed  or  wound- 
ed. Many  of  them  did  not  even  dis- 
charge their  guns,  but  left  them  loaded,  sticking 
between  the  rails  of  the  fence  behind  which  they 
were  posted.  In  vain  did  their  officers  attempt 
to  rally  this  terror-stricken  herd ;  in  vain  did 
Lee  threaten  to  fall  upon  them  with  his  dra- 
goons, and  cut  them  to  pieces.  The  panic  was 
complete  and  final.  The  gap  thus  ignominious- 
ly  left  was  immediately  seized  by  the  enemy, 
giving  him  a  powerful  advantage  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  onset,  and  throwing  the 
flanking  legion  out  of  combination  with  the  rest 
of  the  army.  But  this  auspicious  beginning 
did  not  give  to  the  enemy  the  speedy  triumph  it 
seemed  to  promise.    The  Virginia  militia  fought 


COLONEL   WILLIAM    WASHINGTON. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


in 


with  extraordinary  courage  and  obstinacy,  and 
did  every  thing  that  raw  troops  could  do  against 
the  highly-disciplined  and  indomitable  valor  of 
their  adversaries. 

The  first  and  second  lines  were  at  length 
driven  in,  and  the  enemy  became  engaged  with 
the  third  line,  composed  of  Continental  troops. 

At  this  period  of  the  battle  Greene  had  every 
hope  of  obtaining  a  complete  victory,  and  but  for 
a  disaster  similar  to  that  which  occurred  in  the 
commencement  of  the  battle,  this  hope  would, 
doubtless,  have  been  realized. 

The  enemy  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Web- 
ster had  received  a  check  from  the  first  regi- 
ment of  Marylanders  under  Gunby.  The  sec- 
ond regiment,  however,  when  assailed  by  a 
battalion  of  the  English  Guards,  led  by  Colonel 
Stuart,  broke  and  fled,  leaving  two  pieces  of 
artillery  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  at- 
tempt of  the  Guards  to  pursue  the  flying  regi- 
ment was  checked  by  the  First  Marylanders. 
and  at  this  point  Washington  fell  upon  them 
with  his  cavalry.  This  charge  of  horse  was 
seconded  by  Colonel  Howard  with  the  bayonet. 
The  Guards  were  ridden  down  and  cut  to 
pieces.  Colonel  Stuart  fell  by  the  sword  of 
Captain  Smith  of  the  Marylanders. 

When  Cornwallis  saw  the  remnant  of  this 
battalion  flying  before  the  advancing  corps,  he 
directed  the  fire  of  his  artillery  upon  the  min- 
gled mass  of  pursuers  and  pursued.  Brigadier 
O'Hara  remonstrated,  exclaiming  that  the  fire 
would  destroy  the  Guards.  Cornwallis  replied, 
"It  is  a  necessary  evil  which  we  must  endure, 
to  arrest  impending  destruction." 

Cornwallis  went  in  person  to  direct  these 
measures  to  stop  the  advance  of  the  Americans, 
and  in  so  doing  exposed  himself  to  imminent 
peril,  as  the  following  anecdote  from  Marshall's 
Life  of  Washington  will  show : 

' '  After  passing  through  the  Guards  into  the 
open  ground,  Washington,  who  always  led  the 
van,  perceived  an  officer  surrounded  by  several 
persons,  appearing  to  be  aids-de-camp.  Be- 
lieving this  to  be  Lord  Cornwallis,  he  rushed 


COLONEL   JOHN    E     HOWARD. 

Vol.  XV.— No.  86.— L 


on  with  the  hope  of  making  him  prisoner,  when 
he  was  arrested  by  an  accident.  His  cap  fell 
from  his  head,  and  as  he  leaped  to  the  ground 
to  recover  it,  the  officer  leading  his  column  was 
shot  through  the  body  and  rendered  incapable 
of  managing  his  horse.  The  animal  wheeled 
round  with  his  rider  and  galloped  off  the  field. 
He  was  followed  by  all  the  cavalry,  who  sup- 
posed the  movement  had  been  directed." 

Howard,  with  the  infantry,  believing  himself 
to  be  out  of  support  retired  to  his  former  posi- 
tion. Lee's  legion  in  the  mean  time  had  fought 
its  way  back  to  the  left  of  the  main  body  of 
Continentals,  and  it  is  probable,  if  Greene  had 
been  informed  of  this,  and  aware  of  the  condi- 


1G2 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


BATTLE-GROUND   AT   GUILFORD. 


tion  of  his  enemy,  he  would  have  persevered 
and  won  the  hattle.  As  it  was,  the  greater  part 
of  the  militia  had  left  the  field,  he  had  found  it 
impossible  to  rally  the  second  Marylanders,  and 
supposing  Lee's  command  to  have  been  either 
destroyed  or  cut  off  from  the  army,  he  determ- 


PLAN   OP    BATTLE   OF   GUILFORD. 


ined  not  to  risk  the  annihilation  of  his  force  but 
to  draw  off  while  he  could.  A  Virginia  regi- 
ment which  had  not  yet  tasted  battle  was  or- 
dered to  the  rear  to  cover  the  retreat,  which 
was  effected  deliberately  and  without  disturbance, 
as  the  enemy  were  in  no  condition  to  pursue. 

The  American  loss  in  this 
battle,  in  killed,wounded,  and 
missing,  was  about  four  hun- 
dred men ;  that  of  the  enemy 
was  little  less  than  six  hun- 
dred, nearly  one-third  of  the 
force  engaged.  The  victory 
belonged  to  the  British,  but 
Fox  said  truly  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  "Another  such 
victory  would  destroy  the  Brit- 

\J x         ish  armv-" 

A  few  days  after  saw  the 
victorious  Cornwallis  in  full 
retreat  on  "Wilmington  and 
the  beaten  Greene  in  hot  pur- 
suit, seeking  battle  and  una- 
ble to  obtain  it.  With  his  vic- 
tory the  British  commander 
lost  every  thing  for  which  he 
had  so  skillfully  and  arduous- 
ly contended.  Although  de- 
feated, the  sagacious  Ameri- 
can regained  his  ascendency 
in  North  Carolina,  and  struck 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  the 
loyalists  over  the  whole  South. 

Such  was  the  battle  of  Guil- 
ford, and  such  its  results. 

Porte  Crayon  at  length  ar- 


*  The  view  of  the  Battle-ground  of  Guilford  is  copied 
from  Lossing's  "Field  Book  of  the  Revolution."  "This 
view,"  says  Mr.  Lossing,  "is  from  the  eminence  south- 
west of  the  old  Guilford  (Jourt-House.  The  log-house, 
partially  clap-boarded,  seen  on  the  right,  was  uninhab- 
ited. In  the  distance,  near  the  centre,  is  seen  Martins- 
ville, and  between  it  and  the  foreground  is  the  rolling 
vale,  its  undulations  furrowed  by  many  gulleys.     In  an 


open  field,  on  the  left  of  the  road,  seen  in  the  hollow  to- 
ward the  left  of  the  picture,  was  the  fiercest  part  of  the 
battle,  where  Washington  charged  upon  the  Guards.  Upon 
the  ridge  extending  to  the  right,  through  the  centre  of 
the  picture,  the  second  line  (Virginians)  was  posted.  Tho 
snow  was  falling  very  fast  when  I  made  this  sketch.  Our 
point  of  view,  at  the  old  log-house,  is  the  extreme  west- 
erly view  of  the  field  of  controversy." 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


163 


rived  at  Martinsville,  and  the  results  of  his  visit 
we  will  give  in  his  own  words. 

"It  was,"  said  he,  "with  a  feeling  of  inde- 
scribable interest,  mingled  with  something  of 
awe,  that  I  reined  up  my  horse  in  the  midst  of 
a  group  of  ruined  chimneys  and  decayed  wood- 
en houses,  all,  save  one,  silent  and  deserted. 
There  was  no  human  being  in  sight  of  whom 
to  make  inquiry,  but  I  knew  instinctively  that 
I  was  upon  the  field  of  Guilford.  The  face  of 
the  country  answered  so  well  to  the  descriptions 
which  I  had  read,  and  there  had  been  appar- 
ently so  little  change  since  the  day  of  the  bat- 
tle, that  there  was  no  difficulty  in  recognizing 
the  localities.  Unmarred  by  monuments,  un- 
contaminated  by  improvements,  the  view  of  the 
silent,  lonely  fields  and  woods  brought  the  old 
times  back,  so  fresh,  so  real,  so  near.  Come, 
wizard  fancy,  with  thy  spell  of  grarnarye  !  fling 
me  a  picture  of  the  fight ! 

"The  hills  are  again  crowned  with  armed 
battalions.  The  rolling  of  drums,  the  start- 
ling bugle  call,  the  voice  of  command,  break  the 
silence  of  the  budding  forest.  There,  swarm- 
ing in  the  thicket,  near  the  edge  of  the  wood 
and  behind  the  protecting  fences,  are  the  un- 
skillful militia,  valiant  in  pot  houses  but  unre- 
liable in  the  field,  hearkening,  with  fainting 
hearts,  to  the  mingled  threats  and  encourage- 
ment of  their  leaders,  ready  to  fire  and  run 
away  at  the  first  burst  of  battle. 

"Manoeuvring  on  either  flank  are  the  snort- 
ing squadrons  of  Washington  and  Lee,  whose 
flashing  sabres  have  already  tasted  blood.  In 
the  distance  are  seen  the  serried  lines  of  the 
grim  Continentals,  men  of  reliable  mettle,  who 
can  hear  the  battle  going  on  around  them  and 
bide  their  time ;  who,  unmoved  and  scornful, 
see  the  panic-stricken  herds  of  friends  fly  past 


them,  and  then  rush  gallantly  to  meet  the  bay- 
onets of  their  enemies. 

"The  cannon  are  posted ;  the  ready  artille- 
rist holds  the  lighted  match.  Alternately  anx- 
ious and  hopeful,  the  American  commander  re- 
views his  order  of  battle.  It  is  all  wisely  con- 
sidered and  complete.  For  the  result,  'Trust  in 
God,  and  fire  low  !' 

' '  The  hour  of  impending  battle  is  always  ter- 
rible. To  the  commoner  mind  the  question  of 
life  or  death  is  presented  with  awful  distinct- 
ness, while  the  nobler  soul  is  torn  with  more 
complicated  emotions:  'Shall  victory  or  defeat 
be  ours  ?  honor  or  disgrace  ?  a  liberated  coun- 
try or  a  despot's  bloody  sword?' 

"Hark!  the  rolling  of  the  English  drums! 
Like  an  electric  shock  it  shakes  the  thousands 
that  stand  expectant  upon  the  embattled  hill! 
Now  the  coward's  cheek  blanches,  as  with  im- 
potent and  trembling  haste  he  fumbles  his  mus- 
ket lock.  Now  the  warm  blood  rushes  to  the 
brow  of  the  brave,  and  with  fiercer  eagerness 
he  grasps  his  sword  hilt.  The  head  of  the  ad- 
vancing column  is  already  in  sight.  The  sun's 
rays  glance  upon  their  burnished  arms  : 

"  '  And  more.     Behold  how  fair  arrayed 

They  file  from  out  the  hawthorn  shade, 
And  sweep  so  gallant  by ! 

St.  George  might  waken  from  the  dead 
To  see  fair  England's  banners  fly.' 

' '  As  the  column  deploys  in  the  open  ground, 
white  wreaths  of  smoke  rise  from  the  wood,  and 
the  thunder  of  cannon  proclaims  that  the  battle 
is  begun.  Then,  as  the  audacious  Briton,  in 
long  scarlet  lines,  advances  steadily  to  the  at- 
tack, the  crash  of  small  arms  is  heard  along  the 
American  line.  Soon  the  tree-tops  are  hidden 
with  the  rolling  smoke,  and  the  volleying  mus- 
ketry of  the  English,  mingling  with  the  contin- 


GCILFOED   COUBT-HOH6E. 


164 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


"V 


FINDING   THE   GUN-LOCK. 

nous  roar  of  the  American  fire,  swells  the  terri- 
ble anthem  of  battle. 

"The  American  lines  are  broken,  and  the 
tide  of  war  rolls  on  until  the  intrepid  assailants 
meet,  in  the  Continental  line,  foes  more  worthy 
of  their  steel : 

"  '  The  war  which  for  a  space  did  fail, 

Now,  trebly  thundering,  swelled  the  gale.' 

"Then,  then  Virginia,  it  was  a  joy,  that  even 
defeat  and  disaster  can  not  blight,  to  see  that 
haughty  battalion  of  Guards  flying  in  wild  dis- 
order from  the  wood,  while  thy  fiery  horsemen, 
with  hoof  and  sabre,  trampled  them  in  the 
dust! 

"I  rose  in  my  stirrups,  and  gave  a  shout 
that  made  old  Guilford's  echoes  ring  again, 
and  alarmed  a  plowman  on  a  hill  half  a  mile 
off. 

"  So  bidding  adieu  to  fancy,  I  set  off  to  see 
the  plowman,  wishing  to  make  some  more  par- 
ticular inquiries  about  the  localities.  I  found 
him  intelligent  and  disposed  to  be  communi- 
cative. He  indicated  the  different  points  where 
the  hardest  fighting  had  been,  showed  an  old 
tree  which  had  been  struck  by  a  cannon-shot, 
and  said  that  in  plowing,  even  at  this  day,  he 
frequently  turned  up  bullets,  bayonets,  and  por- 
tions of  arms  and  accoutrements  that  had  with- 
stood the  tooth  of  time. 

"  '  One  day,'  said  he,  '  as  I  was  plowing  near 
my  house  thar,  my  little  daughter  found  in  the 
furrow  a  complete  musket-lock,  much  rusted 
and  standing  at  full  cock.  That,'  continued 
the  countryman,  'set  me  to  thinking  more  than 
any  thing  I  have  yet  seen.  It  looked  more  like 
fighting.  The  man  that  cocked  that  gun  was 
killed  perhaps  before  he  had  time  to  pull  the 
trigger. 

"  '  Many  a  time,  Sir,  when  I  am  idle,  I  take 
that  lock  in  my  hand  and  look  at  it,  until  I  feel 


curious  like,  as  though  the  bat- 
tle that  was  fought  so  many 
years  ago  was  somehow  brought 
nearer  to  us.' 

"  This  quaint  talisman  that 
wrought  so  powerfully  on  the 
imagination  of  the  unlettered 
plowman,  might  even  set  more 
learned  men  to  thinking. 

"Taking  a  friendly  leave  of 
the  countryman,  I  returned  to 
Green  sborough  in  time  to  dine 
and  meet  the  cars  for  Salis- 
bury. 

"While  I  was  waiting  for  the 
train,  a  raw-looking  chap,  about 
three  feet  across  the  shoulders, 
squared  himself  in  front  of  me, 
and  treated  himself  to  a  long, 
deliberate,  and  apparently  very 
satisfactory  stare.  Notwith- 
standing the  lofty  themes  which 
had  occupied  my  thoughts  dur- 
ing the  morning,  I  permitted 
my  indignation  to  betray  me 
into  an  unjustifiable  act,  for  I  revenged  myself 
behind  his  back." 


REVENGK. 


HARPER'S 

NEW  MOITHLY  MAGAZINE. 


No.  LXXXVIL-AUGUST,  1S57.— Vol.  IV. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 

BY    PORTE    CRAYON. 

IV.— THE  GOLD  REGION. 

"  Earth,  yield  me  roots ; 
Who  seeks  for  better  of  thee,  sauce  his  palate 
With  thy  most  operant  poison.     What  have  we  here  ? 
Gold,  yellow,  glittering,  precious  gold." 

Shakspea.ee. 

THE  Gold  Region  of  North  Carolina  lies  west 
of  the  Yadkin,  and  the  most  important  mines 
are  found  between  that  river  and  the  Catawba, 
in  the  counties  of  Rowan,  Cabarras,  and  Meck- 
lenburg. 

The  following  account,  furnished  by  Colonel 
Barnhardt,  is  given  in  Wheeler's  History  of  the 
State : 

".4  Sketch  of  the  Discovery  and  History  of  the  Reed 
Gold  Mine,  in  Cabarras  County,  North  Carolina,  being 
the  first  Gold  Mine  discovered  in  the  United  States." 
"  The  first  piece  of  gold  found  at  this  mine  was  in  the 
year  1T99,  by  Conrad  Reed,  a  boy  of  about  twelve  years 
old,  a  son  of  John  Reed,  the  proprietor.  The  discovery 
was  made  in  an  accidental  manner.  The  boy  above 
named,  in  company  with  a  sister  and  younger  brother, 
went  to  a  small  stream,  called  Meadow  Creek,  on  Sab- 
bath day,  while  their  parents  were  at  church,  for  the 
purpose  of  shooting  fish  with  bow  and  arrow ;  and  while 
engaged  along  the  bank  of  the  creek,  Conrad  saw  a  yel- 
low substance  shin- 
ing in  the  water. 
He  went  in  and 
picked  it  up,  and 
found  it  to  be  some 
kind  of  metal,  and 
carried  it  home. 
Mr.  Reed  examined 
it,  but  as  gold  was 
unknown  in  this 
part  of  the  country 
at  that  time,  he  did 
not  know  what  kind 
of  metal  it  was. 
The  piece  was  about 
the  size  of  a  small 
smoothing-iron. 

"  Mr.  Reed  car- 
ried the  piece  of 
metal  to  Concord, 
and  showed  it  to 
William  Atkinson, 
a  silversmith  ;  but 
he,  not  thinking  of 
gold,  was  unable  to 
say  what  kind  of 
metal  it  was. 

"  Mr.  Reed  kept 
the  piece  for  sev- 
eral years  on  his 
house  floor,  to  lay 
against  the  door  to 
keep  it  from  shut- 


FINDIXU    GOLl 


ting.  In  the  year  1802  he  went  to  market  to  Fayetteville, 
and  carried  the  piece  of  metal  with  him,  and  on  showing 
it  to  a  jeweler,  the  jeweler  immediately  told  him  it  was 
gold,  and  requested  Mr.  Reed  to  leave  the  metal  with  him, 
and  said  he  would  flux  it.  Mr.  Reed  left  it,  and  returned 
in  a  short  time,  and  on  his  return  the  jeweler  showed  him 
a  large  bar  of  gold,  six  or  eight  inches  long.  The  jeweler 
then  asked  Mr.  Reed  what  he  would  take  for  the  bar. 
Mr.  Reed,  not  knowing  the  value  of  gold,  thought  he 
would  ask  a  big  price  ;  and  so  he  asked  three  dollars  and 
fifty  cents.    The  jeweler  paid  him  his  price. 

"  After  returning  home,  Mr.  Reed  examined  and  found 
gold  in  the  surface  along  the  creek.  He  then  associated 
Frederick  Kisor,  James  Love,  and  Martin  Phifer  with 
himself,  and  in  the  year  1803  they  found  a  piece  of  gold 
in  the  branch  that  weighed  twenty-eight  (28)  pounds. 
Numerous  pieces  -n  ere  found  at  this  mine  weighing  from 
sixteen  pounds  down  to  the  smallest  particles. 

"  The  whole  surface  along  the  creek  for  nearly  a  mi'.e 
was  very  rich  in  gold. 

"  The  veins  of  this  mine  were  discovered  in  the  year 
1831.  They  yielded  a  large  quantity  of  gold.  The  veins 
are  flint  and  quartz. 

"  I  do  certify  that  the  foregoing  is  a  true  statement  of 
the  discovery  and  history  of  this  mine,  as  given  by  Johu 
Reed  and  his  son  Conrad  Reed,  cow  both  dead. 

"  Geobge  Babnhaedt. 
"  January,  1848." 

At  the  present  day  the  surface  gold  is  very 
scarce,  and  the  precious  ore  is  found  principal- 
ly in  veins  of  quartz,  bedded  in  the  hardest 

black  slate. 
I=lyjj§^sgs%^  v'TSi  The  mines  are 

located  in  what 
has  been  from 
very  early  times 
an  opulent  and 
well-peopled  dis- 
trict, the  theatre 
of  many  import- 
ant political  and 
military  events 
before  and  dur- 
ing our  struggle 
for  national  in- 
dependence. 

What  effect 
the  discovery  of 
gold  may  have 
had  upon  the 
general  prosper- 
ity of  the  region 
we  do  not  know ; 
but  having  heard 
divers  and  con- 
flicting opinions 
on  the  subject, 
we     have     dis- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857,  by  Harper  and  Brothers,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Dis- 
trict Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 

Vol.  XV.— No.  87.— T 


290 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


creetly  concluded  to  indulge  in  no  speculations 
thereon.  We  will,  therefore,  resume  our  nar- 
rative of  the  observations  and  adventures  of  our 
heroic  traveler,  Porte  Crayon. 

At  Salisbury,  the  seat  of  justice  of  Rowan 
County,  he  found  comfortable  quarters  at  the 
Rowan  House.  The  first  object  which  attract- 
ed his  attention  here  was  a  spry,  crockery-col- 
ored lad,  clothed  in  red  linsey,  and  tipped  off 
with  an  extraordinary  crop  of  red  wool.  This 
youth  has  an  uncommon  talent  for  handing  hot 
cakes,  and,  according  to  his  own  account,  is  a 
cross  of  the  Indian  and  Red  Fox. 


THE   BED   FOX. 


Salisbury  contains  about  three  thousand  in- 
habitants, and  is  a  well-built,  flourishing  town. 
Among  other  notable  objects  it  contains  the  of- 
fice where  General  Jackson  studied  law,  and  the 
houses  which,  in  earlier  times,  were  respectively 
the  head-quarters  of  Greene  and  Cornwallis,  as 
pursued  and  pursuing  they  passed  through  on 
the  famous  retreat  across  the  Dan.  In  connec- 
tion with  this  event,  an  interesting  anecdote  is 
related  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Steele,  one  of  the 
strong-minded  women  of  that  day,  at  whose 
house  Greene  was  entertained  the  evening  of 
the  first  of  February,  1781. 

As  he  arrived,  after  a  hard  day's  ride  through 
the  rain,  he  said  despondingly  to  Surgeon  Reed 
that  he  was  fatigued,  hungry,  and  penniless. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  distinguished  sol- 
dier was  seated  at  a  well- spread  table,  near  a 
roaring  fire,  when  his  hostess  entered,  the  blush 
of  modesty  mantling  her  cheek,  the  fervor  of  pa- 
triotism burning  in  her  eye.  "  General,"  said 
she,  "I  overheard  what  you  said  to  Doctor 
Reed ;  take  these,  for  you  will  want  them,  and 
I  can  do  without  them."  So  saying,  she  drew 
two  small  bags  of  specie,  the  savings  of  years, 
from  beneath  her  apron,  and  placed  them  beside 
his  plate. 

In  the  lives  of  those  high-mettled  dames  of 
the  olden  time,  the  daughters,  wives,  and  moth- 
ers of  men,  the  earnest  inquirer  might  find  much 
to  elucidate  that  befogged  question  of  the  pres- 
ent day,  "  What  are  the  rights  of  women?" 


Even  our  modern  statesmen  and  patriots 
might  with  benefit  peruse  the  proceedings  and 
resolutions  of  a  simple,  earnest  people,  who  ex- 
pected to  stand  up  to  what  they  Resolved,  and 
did  not  understand  legislating  for  Buncombe, 
that  world-famous  county  not  having  been  then 
established. 

In  the  proceedings  of  the  Committee  of  Safe- 
ty for  Rowran  County  in  1 774,  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing expressive  clause  :  "Resolved,  That  the 
cause  of  the  town  of  Boston  is  the  common 
cause  of  the  American  Colonies." 

From  Salisbury  Mr.  Crayon  took  the  coach 
for  Gold  Hill,  twenty  miles  distant.  He  was 
accompanied  on  this  journey  by  a  young  gentle- 
man from  Massachusetts,  who,  led  by  a  common 
curiosity,  was  desirous  of  visiting  the  most  fa- 
mous of  the  North  Carolina  gold  mines.  Their 
road  passed  through  a  pleasantly  diversified 
country,  budding  and  blooming  under  the  soft 
influences  of  spring.  Here  and  there  they  re- 
marked heaps  of  red  earth,  broken  rocks,  de- 
caying windlasses,  and  roofless  sheds,  designat- 
ing the  spots  where  men  had  wasted  time  and 
money  in  searching  for  "earth's  most  operant 
poison." 

As  the  terrapin  in  the  fable  won  the  race  by 
steady  perseverance,  so  the  vehicle  that  conveyed 
Porte  Crayon  and  his  friend  at  length  reached 
Gold  Hill.  This  famous  village  contains  about 
twelve  hundred  inhabitants,  the  population  be- 
ing altogether  made  up  of  persons  interested  in 
and  depending  on  the  mines.  There  is  cer- 
tainly nothing  in  the  appearance  of  the  place  or 
its  inhabitants  to  remind  one  of  its  auriferous 
origin,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  deal  of  dirt  and 
shabbiness.  Our  philosophic  tourist,  however, 
is  rarely  satisfied  with  a  superficial  view  of  things 
if  he  can  find  opportunity  to  dive  deeper  in 
search  of  truth.  If  this  retiring  goddess  is  so 
partial  to  the  bottom  of  a  well,  possibly  she  may 
lie  in  the  bottom  of  a  mine. 

"But,  Mr.  Crayon,  how  can  you  say  with 
propriety  that  truth  lies  any  where  ?" 

"Aroynt  thee,  Punster!     P ,  you  have 

been  reading  Shakspeare." 


LITTLE   BEITON8. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


291 


Having  presented  their  credentials  to  the  su- 
perintendent of  the  works,  the  travelers  were 
politely  received,  and  in  due  time  arrangements 
were  made  to  enable  them  to  visit  the  subter- 
ranean streets  of  Gold  Hill.  The  foreman  of 
the  working  gangs  was  sent  for  and  our  friends 
placed  under  his  charge,  with  instructions  to 
show  them  every  thing.     Matthew  Moyle  was 


a  Comish  man,  a  handsome,  manly  specimen  of 
a  Briton.  With  bluff  courtesy  he  addressed  our 
adventurers : 

"You  wish  to  see  every  thing  right,  gentle- 
men ?" 

"We  do." 

"Then  meet  me  at  the  store  at  eight  o'clock 
this  evening,  and  all  things  shall  be  in  readiness." 


292 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


MAT   MOYLE   AlvD   NICKY   TKEVETHAX. 


Eight  o'clock  soon  arrived,  and  all  parties  were 
met  at  the  place  of  rendezvous.  Moyle  and  his 
assistant,  Bill  Jenkins,  looked  brave  in  their 
mining  costume.  This  consisted  of  a  coat  with 
short  sleeves  and  tail,  and  overalls  of  white 
duck.  A  round-topped  wide-brimmed  hat  of 
indurated  felt,  protected  the  head  like  a  helmet. 
In  lieu  of  crest  or  plume  each  wore  a  lighted 
candle  in  front,  stuck  upon  the  hat  Avith  a  wad 
of  clay.  Crayon  and  his  companion  donned 
similar  suits  borrowed  for  their  use,  and  thus 
accoutred  the  party  proceeded  immediately  to 
the  mouth  of  the  ladder  shaft.  This  was  a  square 
opening  lined  with  heavy  timber,  and  partly  oc- 


cupied by  an  enormous  pump  used  to  clear  the 
mines  of  water  and  worked  by  steam.  The 
black  throat  of  the  shaft  was  first  illuminated 
by  Moyle,  who  commenced  descending  a  narrow 
ladder  that  was  nearly  perpendicular.  Porte 
Crayon  followed  next,  and  then  Boston.  The 
ladders  were  about  twenty  inches  wide,  with  one 
side  set  against  the  timber  lining  of  the  shaft, 
so  that  the  climber  had  to  manage  his  elbows 
to  keep  from  throwing  the  weight  of  the  body 
on  the  other  side.  Every  twenty  feet  or  there- 
about the  ladders  terminated  on  the  platforms 
of  the-  same  width,  and  barely  long  enough  to 
enable  one  to  turn  about  to  set  foot  on  the  next 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


293 


ladder.  In  addition,  the  rounds  and  platforms 
were  slippery  with  mnd  and  water.  As  they 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  third  or  fourth  ladder 
Crayon  made  a  misstep  which  threw  him  slight- 
ly off  his  balance,  when  he  felt  the  iron  grasp  of 
the  foreman  on  his  arm : 

"Steady,  man,  steady!" 

"Thank  you,  Sir.  But,  my  friend,  how  much 
of  this  road  have  we  to  travel  ?" 

"Four  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet,  Sir,  to 
the  bottom  of  the  shaft." 

"And  those  faint  blue  specks  that  I  see 
below,  so  deep  deep  down  that  they  look  like 
stars  reflected  in  the  bosom  of  a  calm  lake, 
what  are  they  ?"' 


DESCENDING   THE   LADDER-SIIAFT. 


' '  Lights  in  the  miners'  hats,  who  are  work- 
ing below,  Sir." 

Porte  Crayon  felt  a  numbness  seize  upon  his 
limbs. 

"And  are  we,  then,  crawling  like  flies  down 
the  sides  of  this  open  shaft,  with  no  foothold  but 
these  narrow  slippery  ladders,  and  nothing  be- 
tween us  and  the  bottom  but  four  hundred  feet 
of  unsubstantial  darkness  ?" 

"This  is  the  road  we  miners  travel  daily," 
replied  the  foreman ;  "  you,  gentlemen,  wished 
to  see  all  we  had  to  show,  and  so  I  chose  this 
route.  There  is  a  safer  and  an  easier  way  if 
you  prefer  it." 

Crayon  looked  in  the  Yankee's  face,  but  there 
was  no  flinching  there. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  he ;  "I  was  only  asking 
questions  to  satisfy  my  curiosity.  Lead  on  until 
you  reach  China  ;  we'll  follow." 

Nevertheless  after  that  did  our  hero  remove 
his  slippery  buckskin  gloves  and  grip  the  mud- 
dy rounds  with  naked  hands  for  better  security ; 
and  daintily  enough  he  trod  those  narrow  plat- 
forms as  if  he  were  walking  on  eggs,  and  when 
ever  and  anon  some  cheery  jest  broke  out,  who 
knows  but  it  was  uttered  to  scare  off  an  awful 
consciousness  that,  returning  again  and  again, 
would  creep  numbingly  over  the  senses  during 
the  intervals  of  silence  ? 

But  we  can  not  say  properly  that  they  ever 
moved  in  silence,  for  the  dull  sounds  that  ac- 
companied their  downward  progress  were  even 
worse.  The  voices  of  the  workmen  rose  from 
the  depths  like  inarticulate  hollow  moanings, 
and  the  measured  strokes  of  the  mighty  pump 
thumped  like  the  awful  pulsations  of  some  earth- 
born  giant. 

Heated  and  reeling  with  fatigue,  they  at 
length  halted  at  the  two  hundred  and  seventy 
foot  gallery.  Here  they  reposed  for  a  few  min- 
utes, and  then  leaving  the  shaft  walked  some 
distance  into  the  horizontal  opening.  At  the 
end  they  found  a  couple  of  negroes  boring  in 
the  rock  with  iron  sledge  and  auger.  Having 
satisfied  their  curiosity  here,  they  returned  to 
the  shaft  and  descended  until  they  reached  the 
three  hundred  and  thirty  foot  gallery.  Here 
appeared  a  wild-looking  group  of  miners,  twenty 
or  more  in  number,  who  had  crowded  on  a  nar- 
row gallery  of  plank  that  went  round  the  shaft 
until  it  seemed  ready  to  break  with  their  weight. 
A  number  of  negroes  were  huddled  in  the  en- 
trance of  an  opposite  gallery,  and  among  them 
our  friends  preferred  to  bestow  themselves  for 
better  security. 

The  miners  were  congregated  here,  awaiting 
the  explosion  of  a  number  of  blasts  in  the  main 
gallery.  The  expectancy  was  not  of  long  dura- 
tion, for  presently  our  friends  felt  and  heard  a 
stunning  crash  as  if  they  had  been  fired  out  of 
a  Paixhan  gun,  then  came  another  and  another 
in  quick  succession.  They  were  soon  enveloped 
in  an  atmosphere  of  sulphurous  smoke,  and  as 
the  explosions  continued  Boston  remarked,  that 
in  a  few  minutes  he  should  imagine  himself  in 
the  trenches  at  Sebastopol. 


204 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


BOEING. 

When  the  blasting  was  over  the  men  returned 
to  their  places,  and  Moyle,  having  requested  his 
visitors  to  remain  where  they  were,  went  to  give 
some  directions  to  the  workmen.  During  his 
absence,  Boston,  with  the  characteristic  sharp- 
ness of  his  people,  commenced  prying  about 
him. 

"What  the  deuce,"  quoth  he,  "is  in  these 
bags  on  which  we  are  sitting  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing !"  replied  Crayon,  in  a  listless 
tone. 

"But  the  bags  are  full,"  persisted  the  Yan- 
kee ;  "  and  I  guess  there  must  be  something  in 
them." 

"  Salt,  perhaps." 

"  I  guess  they  have  no  particular  use  for  salt 
down  here." 

"Gold  dust,  maybe,"  and  Crayon  yawned. 

"  I've  a  mind  to  see,  just  to  satisfy  my  curi- 
osity," said  Boston,  opening  his  penknife. 

He  quietly  slit  one  of  the  canvas  bags,  and 
taking  out  a  handful  of  coarse  black  grains 
handed  them  over  to  Crayon. 

Our  hero  opened  his  eyes,  and  then  put  a 
pinch  of  the  substance  into  his  mouth.  He 
sprang  up  suddenly  as  if  he  had  been  shot  at. 

"  Mind  your  light !  Gunpowder,  by  Heaven  ! 
come,  let  us  leave." 

"Wait  a  minute,"  said  Boston,  "until  I  re- 
turn the  powder  and  close  the  bag  securely." 

And  having  done  this  with  great  sangfroid, 
he  followed  Crayon's  suggestion. 

^Yhcn  the  foreman  returned,  our  friends  de- 


scended to  the  bottom  of  the  mine  with- 
out further  stoppages.  Here  they  found 
a  number  of  men  at  work,  with  pick 
and  auger,  knocking  out  the  glittering 
ore.  The  quartz  veins  are  here  seen 
sparkling  on  every  side  with  golden 
sheen.  At  least  so  it  appears  ;  but  the 
guide  dispelled  the  delusion  by  inform- 
ing them  that  this  shining  substance  was 
only  a  sulphuret  of  copper,  the  gold  in 
the  ore  being  seldom  discernible  by  the 
naked  eye,  except  in  specimens  of  ex- 
traordinary richness.  Several  of  these 
specimens  he  found  and  kindlypresent- 
ed  to  the  visitors. 

Having,  at  length,  satisfied  their  cu- 
riosity, and  beginning  to  feel  chilled  by 
their  long  sojourn  in  these  dripping 
abodes,  our  fiiends  intimated  to  their 
guide  that  they  were  disposed  to  revisit 
the  earth's  surface. 

The  question  then  arose  whether  they 
should  reascend  the  ladders,  or  go  up  in 
the  ore  bucket.  The  ladders  were  more 
fatiguing,  the  bucket  more  dangerous, 
and  several  miners  counseled  against 
attempting  that  mode.  Moyle,  how- 
ever, encouraged  them  with  the  assur- 
ance that  they  did  not  lose  many  men 
that  way.  Crayon  settled  the  question 
by  the  following  observation  : 

"  Sometimes  it  is  prudent  to  be  rash. 
I'm  tired ;  and,  paying  due  respect  to 
the  calves  of  my  legs,  I  have  concluded  to  try 
the  bucket." 

The  bucket  is  a  strong  copper  vessel  about 
the  size  of  a  whisky  barrel,  used  to  carry  the 
ore  to  the  surface.  It  is  drawn  up  through  the 
shaft  on  a  strong  windlass  worked  by  horse-pow- 
er. The  operation  is  double — an  empty  bucket 
descending  as  the  loaded  one  ascends.  One  of 
the  risks  from  ascending  in  this  way  is  in  pass- 
ing this  bucket.  Crayon  stuck  his  legs  into  the 
brazen  chariot,  and  held  the  rope  above.  Moyle 
stood  gallantly  upon  the  brim,  balancing  him- 
self lightly  with  one  arm  akimbo.  The  signal- 
cord  was  jerked,  and  up  they  went. 

Slowly  and  steadily  they  rose.  Crayon  talk- 
ed and  laughed,  occasionally  trusting  himself 
with  a  glance  downward,  hugging  the  rope 
closer  as  he  looked.  Moyle  steered  clear  of 
the  descending  bucket,  and  in  a  short  time  our 
hero  found  himself  at  the  mouth  of  the  shaft. 
With  much  care  and  a  little  assistance  he  was 
safely  landed,  and  the  foreman  again  descended 
to  bring  up  the  Yankee. 

As  Moyle  went  down,  Crayon,  with  due  pre- 
caution, looked  down  into  the  shaft  to  watch 
the  proceeding.  He  saw  the  star  in  the  miner's 
helmet  gradually  diminish  until  it  became  a 
faint  blue  speck  scarcely  visible.  Then  other 
tiny  stars  flitted  around,  and  faint,  confused 
sounds  rose  from  the  awful  depth.  At  the  sig- 
nal the  attendant  at  the  windlass  reversed  the 
wheel,  and  the  bucket,  with  the  men,  began  to 
ascend. 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


29S 


Wliile  Crayon  watched  the  lights,  now  grow- 
ing gradually  on  his  sight,  he  was  startled  by  a 
stunning,  crashing  sound  that  rose  from  the 
shaft.  The  first  concussion  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  blasting,  but  the  noise  continued 
with  increasing  violence.  The  signal-chains 
rattled  violently,  and  the  windlass  was  imme- 
diately stopped.  Loud  calls  were  heard  from 
the  shaft,  but  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish 
what  was  said  amidst  the  confused  roar. 

"  Stop  the  pump!"  said  Crayon  to  the  ne- 
gro. "  I  believe  the  machinery  below  has  giv- 
en way." 

The  negro  pulled  a  signal-rope  connected 
with  the  engine-house,  and  presently  the  long 
crank  that  worked  the  pump  was  stopped ;  at 
the  same  time  the  frightful  sounds  in  the  shaft 
ceased.  The  adventurers  in  the  bucket  then 
resumed  their  upward  journey.  When  they 
arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  Movie  nimbly 
skipped  upon  the  platform.  Boston,  who  was 
in  the  bucket,  was  preparing  to  land  with  more 
precaution  ;  but  the  horse,  probably  excited  by 
the  late  confusion,  disregarding  the  order  to 
halt,  kept  on  his  round.  The  bucket  was  drawn 
up  ten  or  twelve  feet  above  the  landing,  and  its 


ASCENDING   BUCKET-8ITAFT 


brim  rested  on  the  windlass.  Boston,  to  save 
his  hands  from  being  crushed,  was  obliged  to 
loose  his  hold  on  the  rope,  and  throw  his  arms 
over  the  turning  beam.  One  moment  more, 
one  step  further,  and  the  bucket,  with  its  occu- 
pant, would  have  been  whirled  over  and  precip- 
itated into  the  yawning  abyss  from  which  thev 
had  just  risen.  Moyle  looked  aghast — the  ne- 
gro attendant  yelled  an  oath  of  mighty  power 
and  sprang  toward  the  horse.  The  movement 
would  have  been  unavailing,  for  the  horse  was 
on  the  further  side  of  his  beat ;  but  it  appears 
he  understood  Mumbo  Jumbo,  and,  at  the  tal- 
ismanic  word,  the  brute  stood  still.  Cuffee 
seized  his  head  and  backed  him  until  the  bucket 
descended  to  the  level  of  the  platform,  and  the 
Yankee  Mas  rescued  from  his  perilous  position, 
altogether  less  flurried  and  excited  than  any  of 
the  witnesses. 

Crayon  then  ascertained  that  his  surmise  in 
regard  to  the  hubbub  in  the  shaft  was  correct. 
At  a  point  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from 
the  bottom  some  of  the  pump  machinery  was 
accidentally  diverted  from  its  legitimate  busi- 
ness of  lifting  water,  and  got  to  working  among 
the  planks  and  timbers  that  lined  the  shaft, 
crushing  through  every  thing,  and  sending  a 
shower  of  boards  and  splinters  below.  The 
fracas  was  appalling,  and,  but  for  the  prompt 
stoppage  of  the  machinery,  serious  damage  and 
loss  of  life  might  have  been  the  result. 

As  they  were  about  to  leave  Porte  Crayon 
approached  the  negro. 

"Uncle,"  said  he,  speaking  with  evident  em- 
barrassment, "you  have  been  at  some  trouble 
on  our  account — got  us  safely  out  of  the  shaft. 
I  wish  to  thank  you,  and  to  offer  you  some  re- 
muneration in  the  shape  of  a  present.  If,  in- 
deed, you,  who  are  continually  up  to  your  knees 
in  gold,  would  condescend  to  look  upon  a  pitiful 
piece  of  silver." 

"  Silber,  Massa?"  ejaculated  Cuffee,  opening 
his  eyes. 

"Yes,  I  take  the  liberty,"  continued  Crayon, 
"of  offering  you  a  trifle,"  and,  with  a  sheepish 
air,  he  dropped  half  a  dollar  into  the  extended 
palm. 

"  In  a  place  where  you  habitually  tread  gold 
under  your  feet,  I  am  really  ashamed  to  offer 
you  baser  metal." 

"  Silber,  Massa !"  said  Cuffee,  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear,  "why  I  ain't  seed  sich  a  sight  sence 
last  Christmas ;"  and  he  louted  so  low  that  his 
ragged  hat  swept  the  ground. 

As  the  strangers  retired  the  voice  was  heard 
still  muttering : 

"Think  nothin'  of  silber,  eh!  I  like  dat — 
dat's  money.  Dese  yaller  stones  ain't  no  use 
to  us.  Silber!  ke,  he — dem's  gemplums  sure 
enough." 

Before  they  parted  Crayon  formally  returned 
his  thanks  to  the  foreman,  and  delicately  hinted 
at  remuneration.  The  offer  met  a  polite  but 
decided  refusal  from  the  manly  Englishman. 

Altogether  the  visit  to  the  mine  occupied 
about  four  hours,  and  the  travelers  were  suffi- 


296 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


ciently   fatigued  to    appreciate  their 
beds  that  night. 

On  the  following  morning  they  vis- 
ited the  works  accompanied  by  the 
superintendent,  who  explained  to  them 
in  a  satisfactory  manner  the  whole 
process  of  getting  gold.  In  the  first 
place,  the  ore  taken  from  the  mine 
is  broken  with  hammers  to  the  size  of 
turnpike  stone.  It  is  then  subjected 
to  a  process  of  grinding  in  water, 
passing  through  the  crushing,  drag- 
ging, and  stirring  mills,  until  it  is  re- 
duced to  an  impalpable  powder,  or,  in 
its  wet  condition,  to  a  light  gray  mud, 
which  is  washed  down,  and  collects 
in  a  large  vat  below  the  mills.  From 
this  it  is  carried  in  wheel-barrows  to 
the  cradles.  The  cradles  are  eighteen 
or  twenty  feet  long,  formed  from  the 
trunks  of  trees  split  in  twain  and 
scooped  out  like  canoes.  They  are 
laid  upon  parallel  timbers  with  a 
slight  inclination,  and  fastened  to- 
gether, so  that  a  dozen  or  more  may 
be  moved  with  the  same  power.  They 
are  closed  at  the  upper  end,  open  at 
the  lower,  and  at  intervals  on  the  in- 
side are  cut  with  shallow  grooves  to 
hold  the  liquid  quicksilver.  The 
golden  mud  is  distributed  in  the  up- 


AT  MOUTH   OP   BUCKET  SHAFT. 

per  end  of  these  cradles,  a  small 
stream  of  water  turned  upon  it,  and 
the  whole  vigorously  and  continu- 
ally rocked  by  machinery.  The 
ground  ore  is  thus  carried  down 
by  the  water,  the  particles  of  gold 
taken  up  by  the  quicksilver,  and 
the  dross  washed  out  at  the  lower 
end,  where  a  blanket  is  ordinarily 
kept  to  prevent  the  accidental  loss 
of  the  quicksilver.  After  each  day's 
performance  the  quicksilver  is  tak- 
en out,  squeezed  in  a  clean  blanket 
or  bag,  and  forms  a  solid  lump 
called  the  amalgam.  This  amal- 
gam is  baked  in  a  retort,  the  quick- 
silver sublimates  and  runs  off  into 
another  vessel,  while  the  pure  gold 
remains  in  the  retort. 

Although  this  is  the  most  ap- 
proved mode  yet  known  of  sepa- 
rating the  gold  from  the  ore,  it  is 
so  imperfect  that,  after  the  great 
works  have  washed  the  dust  three 
-^   or  four  times  over,  private  enter- 
-<>?'  prise  pays  for  the  privilege  of  wash- 
-'    ing  the  refuse,  and  several  persons 
make  a  good  living  at  the  business. 
These  private  establishments  are 
less  complicated  and  far  more  pic- 
turesque in  appearance  than  the 
great  ones.     The  only  machines 
necessary  there  are  the  cradles  and 
the  motive  power,   half  a  dozen 
lively  little  girls  from  twelve  to 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


297 


fifteen  years  of  age.  This  power,  if  not  so  re- 
liable and  steady,  is  far  more  graceful  and  en- 
tertaining than  steam  machinery.  Although 
the  fastidious  might  find  fault  with  their  ap- 
parel, yet  the  graceful  activity  of  these  bare- 
footed lasses  as  they  skip  and  dance  over  their 
rolling  stage,  with  elf-locks  waving  free,  cheeks 
rosy  with  exercise,  and  eyes  bright  with  fun,  is 
far  more  pleasing  to  the  eye  of  taste  than  the 
strained,  extravagant,  and  unnatural  postur- 
ings  of  your  Ellslers  and  Taglionis  that  we 
make  such  a  fuss  about,  excelling  them  as  the 
wild  rose  of  nature  does  the  bewired  and  painted 
artificial,  or — ah  ! — as  the — Crayon  suggests — 
as  freckles  and  dirt  excel  rouge  and  tinsel. 


As  our  artist  was  amusing  himself  sketching 
one  of  these  establishments,  he  observed  the 
children  at  a  neighboring  shed  apparently  in 
consultation.  Presently  the  tallest  one  among 
them  approached  him,  and  after  hovering  around 
for  some  time,  at  length  leaned  over  and  ad- 
dressed him  in  a  whisper  : 

"I  say,  man,  when  you've  done  here,  please 
come  up  our  way  and  give  us  a  touch." 

Gold  Hill,  we  were  informed,  belongs  to  a 
Northern  company.  The  works  are  on  a  more 
extensive  scale  than  at  any  other  point  in 
North  Carolina.  They  give  employment  to 
about  three  hundred  persons,  and  seem  to  be  in 
a  highly  prosperous  condition.     The  working 


298 


HARPEK'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


BILL   JENKINS. 


of  the  mines  is  chiefly  under  the  direction  of 
Englishmen  from  the  mining  districts  of  Corn- 
wall, and  negroes  are  found  to  be  among  the 
most  efficient  laborers.  All  the  machinery  of 
the  different  establishments  is  worked  by  steam 
power  except  the  windlasses  for  raising  the  ore, 
where  blind  horses  are  used  in  preference. 

Having  stuffed  his  knapsack  with  specimens 
of  ore,  and  enriched  his  portfolio  with  several 
portraits  of  the  miners,  Porte  Crayon  with  his 
companion  took  the  stage  and  returned  to  Salis- 
bury. 

' '  I  pray,  come  crush  a  cup  of  wine,  rest  you 
merry."  What's  this?  An  invitation  to  a 
May-day  picnic.  The  earth  has  already  put 
on  her  summer  livery,  wearing  it  daintily  and 
fresh  like  a  bran-new  gown.  The  southern 
breeze  blows  balmily,  all  perfumed  like  a  sweet 
damsel  just  come  from  her  toilet.  The  birds 
sing  like  fifers,  and  the  meads,  bepranked  with 
flowers,  vie  in  beauty  with  our  fashionable  hotel 
carpets.  Woods,  breezes,  birds,  and  flowers — 
all  nature  joins  in  the  invitation. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  third  of  May  a  nu- 
merous and  brilliant  company  took  the  cars  at 
the  Salisbury  de'pot  in  answer  to  the  foregoing 
invitation.     There  was  broadcloth  and  beautv 


in  proper  proportions, 
and  a  profusion  of  flow- 
ers, wit,  and  merriment. 
The  disembarkation  at 
Holtsburg  developed 
still  further  the  inten- 
tions and  resources  of 
the  party.  Numerous 
mysterioushampcrswere 
transferred  from  thebag- 
gage-car  to  the  platform 
of  the  station-house,  and 
a  brace  of  Cuffees,  bear- 
ing instruments  of  mu- 
sic, made  themselves  a 
part  of  the  company. 

This  couple  remind- 
ed one  of  Don  Quixote 
and  his  Squire  done  in 
ebony.  Alfred,  the  fid- 
dler, was  a  lathy,  long- 
armed,  knock  -  kneed 
black,  with  a  counte- 
nance that  vied  in  rue- 
fulness with  that  of  the 
Knight  of  La  Mancha  ; 
while  Simon,  the  tam- 
bour-major, was  a  short, 
wiry,  jolly-faced  fellow, 
who  thumped  his  sheep- 
s-kin  with  a  will.  Of 
these,  however,  more 
anon. 

The  idea  of  "dan- 
cing on  the  green"  is 
eminently  poetical,  but 
quite  absurd  in  practice ; 
the  managers  of  the  pic- 
nic had  therefore  wisely 
determined  to  take  advantage  of  the  springy 
floor  -of  the  Holtsburg  station-house.  This  was 
pleasantly  situated  near  the  silvery  Yadkin,  in 
the  midst  of  a  beautiful  woodland,  and  a  more 
fitting  locality  could  not  have  been  selected. 
They  were  at  first  somewhat  disconcerted  at 
finding  the  station-house  entirely  occupied  with 
bales  of  hay ;  but  this  untoward  circumstance 
was  so  turned  to  account  by  the  ingenuity  and 
energy  of  the  gentlemen  that  it  was  afterward 
esteemed  a  lucky  hit.  The  bales  were  rolled 
out  on  the  platforms,  arranged  around  the  room, 
and  piled  up  at  one  end,  where  they  served  ad- 
mirably for  tables,  scats,  couches,  galleries,  and 
added  greatly  to  comfort  and  the  appearance  of 
the  scene. 

The  early  part  of  the  day  passed  most  agree- 
ably in  rural  walks,  music,  dancing,  cards,  and 
conversation.  Then  the  mid-day  feast  was 
spread  and  eaten,  of  course.  Every  body  pro- 
nounced every  thing  delightful,  every  body  was 
pleased,  and  every  body  was  quite  right.  The 
bright  Champagne  foamed  in  o'erflowing  bump- 
ers. The  corks  flew  about  like  shot  in  a  sharp 
skirmish.  Much  store  of  wit  and  mirth,  which, 
like  the  music  in  the  bugle  of  Munchausen's 
postillion,  had  remained  congealed  by  the  frost 


NORTH  CAROLINA  ILLUSTRATED. 


200 


of  ceremony,  now  broke  forth  spontaneously,  un- 
der the  melting  influences  of  wine.  The  fid- 
dler struck  up  a  merrier  tune,  and  even  Alfred's 
rueful  visage  seemed  to  catch  a  gleam  of  jollity. 
The  tambourine  boomed  and  jangled  with  re- 
doubled power  as  the  excited  Simon  rapped  the 
sounding  sheepskin  consecutively  with  knuckles 
kneepan,  pate,  and  elbow.  Alfred's  legs  and 
arms  worked  like  the  cranks  of  a  grasshopper 
engine,  going  at  thirty  miles  an  hour.  The 
spirit  of  the  dancers  kept  pace  with  the  music 
until  the  approach  of  evening  warned  them  to 
get  ready  for  the  train  which  would  bear  them 
back  to  Salisbury.  Things  were  packed  up, 
and  the  necks  of  several  bottles  of  Champagne, 
discovered  among  the  stuff,  were  broken  off  to 
pass  away  the  time  while  they  waited  for  the 
train." 

"What  a  delightful  day  we've  had!  How 
charmingly  every  thing  has  passed  off!  not  an 
incident  to  mar  the  enjoyment!" 

Just  then  Alfred  appeared  on  the  platform, 
his  trembling  knees  knocked  together,  his  bosom 
heaved  like  a  blacksmith's  bellows,  his  face  was 
ashy  pale,  and  his  eyes  rolled  upward  with  a 
mingled  expression  of  terror  and  despair.  For 
some  moments  he  was  dumb ;  but  his  attitude 
and  accessories  told  his  story — a  grief  too  bi^ 
for  words.  In  one  hand  he  held  an  empty  bag, 
and  in  the  other  his  tuneful  friend  and  com- 
panion, the  fiddle.  But  in  what  a  case  !  splint- 
ered, smashed,  mammocked,  bridge  and  sound- 
ing-post gone,  the  tail-piece  swinging  by  the 
idle  strings. 


Simon  looked  on  aghast. 

"  Somebody  done  sot  on  her  !"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

Alfred  at  length  spoke:  "Da!  dat  fiddle  is 
done  ruinged  !"  and  again  relapsed  into  dumb- 
ness, while  two  big  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes. 
The  hearts  of  the  spectators  were  touched,  and 
they  crowded  round  the  unhappy  negro. 

"Why,  Alfred,"  cried  one,  "it  can  be  mend- 
ed." 

"Never,  massa,  she'll  never  sound  agin.'" 

' '  Pass  round  your  hat,  Alfred. " 

That  was  a  woman's  voice.  God  bless  the 
ladies !  May  their  kind  hearts  never  know  sor- 
row ! 

The  hat  circulated,  and  substantial  sympathy 
showered  in  it  so  freely  that  there  was  present- 
ly enough  to  buy  two  fiddles.  A  glow  of  hap- 
piness overspread  the  minstrel's  face,  and  as  he 
acknowledged  and  pocketed  the  contents  of  the 
hat,  he  glanced  again  at  his  mutilated  instru- 
ment. 

"I  specks  I  kin  mend  her  up  yit." 

Now  Simon  was  an  interested  spectator  of 
these  proceedings,  and  when  he  saw  the  turn 
things  had  taken  he  grew  thoughtful  and  began 
to  scratch  his  head.  Anon  he  disappeared,  and 
after  a  short  time  returned  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  uttering  groans  and  lamentations. 

"Well,  Simon,  what  has  befallen  you?" 

"Oh,  master," replied  Simon,  with  a  tragedy 
countenance,  "I  wouldn't  a  had  dis  to  happen 
for  five  dollars;  jis  look  at  dis  tambourine — 
busted  clean  through." 


300 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


"DAT   FIDDLE   DONE    11UINGED.  ' 

"How  did  this  occur,  Simon?"  said  the 
gentleman,  examining  the  broken  instrument. 

"Why,  master,  I  don't  know  exactly  how  it 
come  ;  but  I  specks  somebody  put  dere  foot  in 
it." 

"  I  would  not  be  surprised,"  returned  the  ex- 
aminer, "if  some  one  had  put  his  foot  in  it. 
Now,  Simon,  you  perceive  the  frame  of  the 
tambourine  is  perfectly  sound,  and  the  cracked 


sheepskin  can  be  easily  replaced.  Your  esti- 
mate of  five  dollars  damages  is  excessive.  In 
my  judgment,  a  judicious  expenditure  of  ten 
cents  will  put  every  thing  in  statu  quo  ante  hel- 
ium.    Here  is  a  dime,  Simon." 

During  this  discourse  the  tambour-major 
looked  very  sheepish  and  restive,  but  habitual 
deference  for  the  opinions  of  the  dominant  race 
induced  him  to  accept  the  award  without  de- 
murrer, only  observing,  as  he  joined  in  the  gen- 
eral laugh, 

"  I  mought  as  well  not  a-broke  it." 

Meanwhile  one  of  the  company  had  got  hold 
of  the  broken  tambourine-head,  declaring  that 
the  events  of  the  day  deserved  to  be  written  on 
parchment. 

A  call  was  made  upon  the  company  for  poet- 
ical contributions,  which  was  answered  by  a 
shower  of  couplets.  A  committee  appointed  to 
collect  and  arrange  the  proceeds  reported  the 
following : 

VEESES  WRITTEN   BY  A  PICNIC   PARTY   ON   TirE   nEAD  OF 
A    BROKEN    TAMBOURINE    WITII   A    CORKSCREW. 

"  Of  all  the  year,  the  time  most  dear 
Is  buxom,  blooming,  merry  May ; 
In  woodland  bowers  we  gather  flowers 
From  morning  fair  to  evening  gray. 

"  Time  we  beguile  with  beauty's  smile, 

And  sweetly  while  the  hours  away, 

Champagne  sipping,  lightly  tripping, 

Like  lambs  skipping  in  their  play. 

"Music  sounding,  mirth  abounding. 
Old  care  drowning  in  the  foam 
Of  sparkling  bumper — fill  a  thumper 
And  we'll  drink  to  friends  at  home. 

"  Pray  mind  your  work  and  poj)  the  cork, 
Just  take  a  fork  if  corkscrews  fail : 
'Think'st  thou,  because  thou'rt  virtuous. 
There  shall  be  no  more  cakes  and  ale  ?' 

"  To  ladies  eyes  'neath  southern  skies, 
To  those  we  prize  on  earth  most  dear, 
Another  brimming  goblet  fill — 

But,  hark !  the  warning  whistle  near. 

"  Drink  quick — 'tis  time  to  close  our  rhyme — 
To  Holtsburg's  halls  a  farewell — hie ; 
To  Yadkin's  bowers  and  fragrant  flowers — 
Quick — tram-it  gloria  mundi — sick." 


/ 


' 


00035464522 


FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


Form  No.  A-368,  Rev.  8/95 


)' 


i  . 


tr   / 


"N 


